


Rotten apple

by hifftn



Series: Summer wine [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alcohol, Attempted Sexual Assault, Blood, F/M, Language, Smut, Some pining, Violence, injuries, slight dub con
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-07
Updated: 2017-02-02
Packaged: 2018-09-07 03:07:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 33,205
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8780713
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hifftn/pseuds/hifftn
Summary: Your boring life in a small town in the middle of nowhere gets suddenly very interesting when two brothers stop at your store.





	1. Day 1

**Author's Note:**

> This story plays in late Season 3.

It was the hottest summer for 50 years. The air was shimmering over the streets, the hot asphalt black from the rubber of the tires. No one was out on the streets if not absolutely necessary. And you were standing behind the counter of the only general store in the whole town, the AC died weeks ago, only the ceiling fan stirred the rigid air in the old hall. The window front gave the sun perfect access and you tried to stay in the shadier part of the shop. Of course there were no costumers. And still you didn’t even think about closing the shop. Besides, where else should you go? Home? To that empty, huge house that was filled with memories of better times? No, thanks.  
You thumbed lazily through some magazines, waiting for the sun to set so that life would return to the streets. Or better, as much life as possible in a small town with only 2000 inhabitants. And hardly anyone younger than 60. It seemed as if all young people just vanished. As soon as someone finished high school they were gone – and you planned on doing the same. You couldn’t stay in that town, in that house and that store forever. Not that anyone would care. But still.  
Suddenly you heard a car engine and peered through the windows. A beautiful black classic car pulled over in front of the shop and a ridiculously tall guy got out at the passenger’s side. The driver got out, too, another guy. You squinted your eyes but since it was so damn bright outside you couldn’t see them clearly. It didn’t matter since they opened the shop’s door only a few seconds later. The little bell ringed and you stood up straight.  
“Welcome,” you greeted them half-heartedly. They were handsome, each in his own way. The taller one had longer hair, a light brown or maybe very dark blond. Hard to tell. The smaller one had short hair, a little bit darker than the other. But you immediately noticed the green eyes when he looked at you and his face lit up in a grin.  
“Well, hello there,” he said with a wink while the other rolled his eyes. You had to suppress a grin, but when your eyes met the ones of the taller guy, you suddenly shivered. Strange. You quickly looked back to the smaller one and put on a polite ‘it’s-too-hot-for-costumers-so-please-make-it-quick’-smile.  
“Can I help you?” you asked since they definitely were strangers around here and you actually hadn’t had the chance to stock up the store for almost two weeks. You started to run out of things, but you couldn’t help it. It wasn’t your store after all and the new owner lived a few towns over. He couldn’t help you. Or didn’t want to, you weren’t sure.  
The smaller one came over to the counter while the other browsed the shelves.  
“I hope so. I really hope so,” he said and you had to struggle to keep smiling. You hated it when the costumers hit on you but you were – well, one of only a few pretty young things in town. And basically fair game.  
“What are you looking for, then?” you kept the sales talk going.  
“Salt,” the taller one shouted from between the shelves. “Isn’t there any here?”  
You made your way over to him. “Not there, no. But over here, with the other spices,” you answered and showed him the right place. He flashed you a smile, his dimples showed but it was somehow unsettling. You gave him a tight smile in return and almost fled behind the counter.  
“There are only three packets left,” the tall one said when he followed you slowly. Maybe your odd behavior rubbed off on him. He seemed to keep his distance and you were glad about it.  
“Sorry, we ran out. Do you need more?” You avoided his eyes, instead looked at the other guy who now came with a six-pack of beer and a bag of chips to the counter.  
“Well, yeah, actually we need a lot more,” he said and put his things down.  
“What are you guys cooking? Who needs that much salt?” you asked without thinking. Both suddenly grinned.  
“Well, it’s not for seasoning, more like… preserving. You know, like making cured cod?” the tall one explained. You nodded slowly.  
“Well sorry, I think we have some road salt in the back but that’s all.” You shrugged apologetically.  
Both shared a look before the smaller one – you called him green-eyes in your mind – shrugged and tilted his head.  
“Road salt would be great.” He smiled at you and you frowned.  
“You guys know that you can’t eat road salt, right? There is some stuff in there that’s not meant for eating,” you explained slowly and carefully.  
“Well yeah, but we won’t really eat it anyway. We just want to preserve some… – hey look, it doesn’t matter, we take the road salt. Okay?” He obviously struggled to find an explanation but he was right, it wasn’t your business. You sighed.  
“I have to go into the storeroom in the back.” You looked at them as if they should understand what that meant. “And I am the only employee here.” You gave them a pointed nod. They stared at you blankly, not aware of the problem there.  
“I can’t leave you guys in here without someone who’s watching you.” You couldn’t make it more clearly.  
The taller one seemed to get the point. “Ah, I see. You don’t trust us.” He grinned and you nodded.  
“Sorry. It’s just that I don’t know you and I am responsible for the store, so…” you said and made a face.  
“Tell you what, sweetheart, I don’t mind getting with you into that storeroom so you can have an eye on me.” Green-eyes grinned and waggled his eyebrows. You stared at him, eyes narrowed.  
“Say, does that really work with other girls? Because I feel rather grossed out right now,” you said and could hear the giant snort in laughter. You shrugged. “But sure, you both can come with me. Let me lock the door first.” And when you saw the green eyes lit up you casually added: “I will take my little insurance with me.” You said it and grabbed the shotgun from under the counter, and made your way over to the door. You turned the “open”-shield so that other costumers knew you would be back in five minutes.  
“Hey, a little girl like you shouldn’t play with weapons,” green-eyes stated with a frown.  
“Believe me, I don’t play. I know my way around a shotgun since I was five. If you want your road salt, stop chatting and follow me.” You walked through the back door into the storeroom. Seasonal goods were stored in the back and it didn’t take long to find the road salt. It came in 20lb-bags and you were actually glad the guys came with you. If they wanted that salt, they could carry it out on their own. Of course you didn’t need the shotgun. You hadn’t even expected it, just wanted to make a point. You might be a girl and you might be young, but you weren’t helpless. You weren’t stupid. You didn’t take unnecessary risks. You were more than just a pretty face. You would fight your way out of that damn town. Out of that nightmare of life you were leading at the moment. You were always a fighter, not the kind of girl to sit and cry. And you were proud of it.  
But still you weren’t too proud to let them carry their damn salt on their own.  
“How much do you want?” you asked.  
“How much do you have?” the giant asked in return.  
You quickly scanned the shelf. “Six bags. Makes 120lbs. That enough?”  
“We take them all,” green-eyes said and you shrugged.  
“Fine, take them.” You stepped aside and let them grab the bags before you led them out and back into the store. When you arrived at the counter you could see someone standing in front of the door. You groaned inwardly. Of course.  
“Let me open the door real quick, I’ll be back in a second,” you mumbled and rushed to the door.  
“Hello Mrs. Miller,” you greeted the old lady that stood in front of the door.  
“Geez, girl, I was already wondering where you went. Letting me stand in the sun all that time – really,” she grumbled and you gave her a tight smile.  
“Sorry, Mrs. Miller, but I have some costumers and we needed to get something from the back,” you explained, already aware of the rumors that would undoubtedly spreading within the next hour.  
“Is that so?” Mrs. Miller took a long glance towards green-eyes and the giant, her face squinched. Obviously she disapproved them being there.  
“I am really sorry, Mrs. Miller, but I have to ring up their stuff first.” You needed all your patience and good nature not to scream at her. Instead you hurried back to the counter where now other goods piled up. You started to type the prizes of the articles into the old cash register, everything had to be done by hand and it took its time. You were grateful for it, it saved you from having the same old conversation with Mrs. Miller that you now had on a daily basis. You added the prizes for the bags of road salt, the normal salt, beer, chips, a magazine, some apples and cookies and declared the sum.  
Both the giant and green eyes looked at you in annoyance when you told them that you couldn’t accept credits cards, but they paid cash in the end. You tried not to stare at the bundle of money green eyes pulled out of his pockets and you tried not to stare at his pocket either, since it was his jeans pocket and your mind inevitably wandered to the question what else was hidden in these jeans.  
They took their stuff and left the store, but they had to come back for the road salt. Mrs. Miller was impatiently waiting at the counter.  
“Why isn’t my hair dye in stock? Harry always had my color,” she clamored and you sighed.  
“Sorry Mrs. Miller, but Harry jr. says he can’t come over and help me get stocked up until next weekend. But I have noted that you need your color. Here, on the list.” You showed her the list you were making with all the special requests the townsfolk had.  
She kept on ranting and ended up buying some sugar, cookies, a can of coffee and other stuff. Nothing major. You rang it up and smiled at her while handing her the paper bag with her purchase.  
“Have a nice day, Mrs. Miller.” You tried. You tried really hard. But she only glared, grabbed her bag and left. This town. This town and its residents. You hated it. So much. Too bad that it was a mutual feeling. Since Harry, the owner of the shop, had died five weeks ago you had the feeling that there was no one left who actually liked you. They all just tolerated your presence since you were a necessary evil. Someone had to keep the shop running after all.  
After Mrs. Miller there weren’t any more costumers until you started to get ready to close the shop at 6pm. The sun wasn’t that bad anymore, but it was still hot and bright outside. You just finished the cash check when the door opened again.  
“We’re closing!” you yelled without looking up.  
“We’ll make it quick, sweetheart.”  
You look up at the voice. Green-eyes and the giant. Again. You frowned.  
“What’s up? Need a centner of pepper to your salt?” Your sarcasm was wasted on green-eyes, but the giant actually smiled. Creepy.  
“You’re a funny little girl, aren’t you?” Green-eyes winked and you had to suppress the urge to roll your eyes. “No, we were just in the diner and a very lovely woman told us that you might help us.”  
Darleen! That old chatterbox! You already knew where this was heading, but you let him continue anyway.  
“We need a room for some nights and she told us there wasn’t a motel around here, but you would know something.” He leaned against the counter and grinned at you.  
“Sorry, but I think I’ll pass. She was right, there’s no motel here, but if you just drive like 30 miles in that direction you will pass a nice little motel.” You pointed vaguely in the direction of the main street out of town.  
“But that nice lady said you have a bed and breakfast.” He still smiled and you slowly got annoyed.  
“No. My grandma has a bed and breakfast. I am only a little shop assistant.” The giant started to get nervous, he had his hands in his pockets until now but decided to take the lead from his friend.  
“Okay, look, why don’t we try a fresh start? I am Sam, that’s my brother Dean. We have some business here and have been on the road for – pff, far too long.” He seemed to be genuinely exhausted. “We just want a bed for the next three or four nights. We don’t even need breakfast. Just the bed.”  
You raised an eyebrow and looked at him. “Only one bed? Brothers? Really?”  
With shock widened eyes green- uhm, Dean, looked at you. “Whoa, easy there. He’s really my brother and two beds would be even better.” You laughed at how strongly he tried to deny your little insinuation.  
“Come on, we are paying customers.” He gave you some serious puppy eyes and you sighed.  
“Fine. But it’s a bit outside of town. Drive in that direction, past the church until you come to a bridge. There’s a small driveway on the left. I’ll be there in 30, maybe 40 minutes.”  
“Still got work?” Dean was really curious.  
“No, but it’s a long way to go by bike in this weather. Oh, but you could do me a favor and bring some stuff along.” You took a small basket and wandered through the shop, piling bread and milk, eggs and some other groceries into the basket.  
“Say, sweetheart, is there a bar in this town?” Dean followed you casually.  
“No. If you want to go out drinking you have to go to the next town. People here are against alcohol and fun.” You turned around to catch him checking you out. With an annoyed glare you added: “You know the film ‘Footloose’? It’s the same here, but not with dancing. Everything that could be fun is forbidden.  
“Really?” Sam looked a bit dumbfounded and Dean’s face fell, too.  
“Yep. Very conservative and pious.” You slipped behind the counter and grabbed under it. With a bottle of whiskey your hand came back. “Technically I’m not old enough to buy this and it’s basically forbidden in this town. But I guess you won’t turn me in.” You shrugged and jotted down what you would take home.  
“That’s my kind of girl,” Dean cheered and you could just hold back a sarcastic ‘Ha!’.  
“Let me guess. Every kind of girl is your kind of girl, am I right?” You glanced over to Sam who mouthed ‘yes’ while Dean shook his head.  
“No, sweetheart, not every kind. Just the cute and feisty ones.”  
“More like the easily impressed ones with the loose panties, you mean. Just so you know, I’m neither.” Sam broke out in laughter and even Dean had to smile.  
“Here. Get that and go ahead.” You handed Dean the bag and motioned towards the door.  
“Wait a minute, were you serious when you said you would go by bike?” Sam stared at you as if you had told them you were an angel, send from heaven to save their souls.  
“Yeah, sure.” You didn’t see what the problem was.  
“You know, we could take you there.” He pointed towards the black car that still parked outside of the shop.  
“But how should I get back here tomorrow? I’m not a fan of long walks in the sunrise.” You quickly cleared some things away and waited for them to move.  
“We could take you back here. I mean, it’s like 95° out there.” He seemed to be really concerned.  
“I know. And in your little black oven it will be even hotter,” you retorted.  
“Well, there have been some pretty hot moments in that car,” Dean piped in with a little grin. You rolled your eyes.  
“Okay, listen. I will go home alone, and when we are there, I will show you your room and go into mine with my shotgun. I don’t know you guys. No way I’m getting into your car, okay? No offense, just – caution.”  
Sam raised both hands and backed off. He and his brother shared a look and then Sam shrugged.  
“Okay. We’ll see you there.”  
They finally left you alone so you could close the shop and hop on your bike.

Half an hour later you reached your home, the black car already parked in front of it. Both men sat on the porch, a beer in hand. You were sweaty and hot, panting due to the heat and the physical strain.  
“Hey sweetheart, there you are! We rang but no one opened.” Dean got up on his feet and came towards you. You just nodded, breathing too heavy to speak.  
“Are you okay?” Sam asked, concern in his voice. You nodded again and got out your key to unlock the door. You were used to it by now, since your car died some weeks ago. You could get it fixed, but you rather saved the money. You opened the door, not waiting for them to follow you, and made your way towards the kitchen. A huge glass of water later you weren’t at least dizzy anymore.  
When you came back to the hallway you saw that the guys were still sitting on the porch.  
“Come in and let me show you your room. Do you want one with two beds or two rooms?” You went over to the little makeshift counter where your grandma kept her guest book.  
“What’s the price?” Dean yelled back.  
“One room 40$ a night, two 25$ each. But there’s only one bathroom on the floor.” They discussed it for a moment, then Dean came in and looked around.  
“Make it two rooms.” You nodded and grabbed two keys.  
“Want a tour?”  
Dean shrugged. “Sure, why not. Sammy!” You could hear some scratching noises before Sam came in, too.  
“Okay, over there is a small living room. TV, couch, stuff like that. The kitchen is over there. Here is the dining room. Breakfast is from whenever you want to I don’t care.” You went ahead towards the stairs. “I would appreciate it if you could make your own breakfast. Just take whatever you need from the fridge. I don’t have time for that. Sorry.” You knew you were rude, but if you didn’t need the money you would have just refused when they asked for a room.  
“Up here are the guest rooms. Sam, you are in number 3, Dean, you have number 4. The bathroom is that way and if you need anything, my room is upstairs. Knock before you enter!” You turned to face Dean at those words.  
“Sure thing, sweetheart.” He winked at you. You opened one of the rooms.  
“No TV here, but wifi if you need it.” The room was simple. A bed, a table with a chair, a wardrobe. The window had a beautiful view over the river that curled through the otherwise green landscape.  
“Are we the only guests?” Sam suddenly asked.  
“Yeah. We are – kinda out of business.” You hated to admit it, it still hurt, but there was no use in hiding it. “The bed and breakfast belongs to my gran. She died six weeks ago.”  
“Oh, I’m sorry,” Sam muttered seriously.  
“Yeah, me too,” Dean added.  
“Thanks. So just you know, I might be alone here, but I’m not helpless, okay? No funny business.” You looked back and forth between them and they nodded.  
“Sweetheart, you are way too tensed. Maybe you need a little distraction.” Dean smiled at you, his green eyes sparkling.  
“Good idea. I’m going for a swim. Bye.” You turned around and climbed the stairs up towards your room. These guys were trouble. You just knew it.

You came back down in old shorts and a dark shirt. Now way you would strut around here in a bikini while those two hotties were in the house. With a towel over your shoulder you made your way over to the river. There was a small boardwalk with a ladder, built ages ago, from where you always jumped into the water.  
“Sweetheart! Wait a moment!” Dean followed you and you stopped and turned around.  
“Is it safe to swim here?” He motioned with his head towards the river.  
“Sure. I’m doing it my whole life.” You shrugged.  
“Can I join you?” His open smile and sparkling eyes made you speechless for a moment.  
“What about Sam?”  
“Nah, he’s more the indoors type of guy. But me? Would love to swim.”  
“Uhm, okay. It’s not my river after all. Go ahead.” You frowned but what should you do? You dropped your towel on the boardwalk and pondered if you should take off your clothes so you could swim in your bikini. You decided against it. You just pushed down your shorts but kept the shirt on, stepped forwards and jumped into the water.  
It was cold, but not too cold; the hot summer days had even managed to warm the flowing water of the river. After being coped up in that stuffy store all day this was exactly what you needed.  
You came back to the surface, gasping for air, running your hand over your eyes and opened them. Just in time to see Dean toe off his shoes and take off his pants. His shirt was already on the ground and he stood there on the boardwalk, against the setting sun, just in his dark boxer briefs and for a moment you forgot to swim. The current slowly carried you off before you regained your senses and started swimming against it.  
He dove into the water, surprisingly graceful, and stayed underwater for some seconds before he emerged right next to you.  
“Dammit! It’s ice cold!” he pressed out and you laughed.  
“What did you expect? Pool temperatures?” you teased and turned over, floating on your back, looking at the sky.  
“When I – when I was a kid… I stayed here for hours… my mom – she always had to come… and get me,” you said, the effort of staying at the same spot cutting off your words.  
“Yeah? Would have done the same,” he answered, obviously happy about the cooling. “Where’s your mom now?”  
You opened your eyes and let your legs sink in again. “Dead.”  
“Oh.” He was silent for some moments. “Recently?”  
“No, some years ago. I – I don’t want to talk about it,” you answered and started swimming again, now towards the boardwalk. You quickly got up the ladder and grabbed your towel, wrapped it around you once more, covering you up. You weren’t exactly prude, just didn’t want those two men you didn’t know to get the wrong idea about what kind of “room service” you would offer. None, to be exact.  
Dean followed you out of the water.  
“Kid, you got some great patch of land here. Being able to take a dip in the river whenever you want? Pretty awesome,” he said, panting a bit. Water ran down his body and since he didn’t have a towel he quickly wiped his face with his shirt.  
You nodded. Yeah, great. Well, the river was great and so was the house. But the town?  
Without another word you walked back to the porch where Sam was sitting, his laptop on his knees. He looked up when you came closer and smiled awkwardly, leaving you with goose bumps. Okay, that was getting really weird. You quickly hurried inside, dried yourself off and dressed in shorts and a shirt. Your hair was still damp when you entered the kitchen and opened the fridge. You assumed that they had already eaten and decided to make a simple sandwich before you took care of some chores.  
“Say, sweetheart,” the voice behind you made you jump. “Is that your car out there?” Dean strolled into the kitchen casually, obviously not minding that he almost gave you a heart attack.  
“Yeah, but it’s broken,” you answered. It was an old VW Beetle, from your mother actually. She didn’t drive much and some friend of hers took care of the maintenance and the repairs. After her death your grandma simply put it into the barn and left it there until you turned 16. After that the long ride to the next town where you went to school was much easier. But it was just your luck that it broke down several weeks ago.  
“It’s a classic. A bit small, but that’s the kind of car that can run forever with the right care.” His eyes were sparkling and you caught yourself preparing another sandwich. Cheese, lettuce, ham. You slid the plate towards him while he still talked about cars and how the older ones were much simpler to maintain.  
“Yeah, only problem is that I have no clue when it comes to cars. I know how to drive it, I can change a tire if necessary and that’s about it,” you admitted. Somehow it was easy to talk to him. Not only because he was a looker, but he was somehow – carefree.  
And there were you, not knowing which of your problems you should try to tackle first. You looked down at your plate and sighed.  
“Think your brother wants a sandwich, too?” you asked when you caught him looking at you.  
“Nah, just the lettuce, I think. Sammy prefers rabbit food,” he said between two bites, making you chuckle. You started to throw a simple salad together and placed the bowl on the table.  
“Tell him he can eat this. I still have some work to do, so…” You motioned towards the door and he nodded.  
“Beer’s in the fridge and your booze, too. Try not to break anything. Good night.” You didn’t wait for him to answer, just went upstairs into the room of your grandma and started to sort through her things. It still hurt, being confronted with your loss. You tried to chase the somber thoughts away, rather recalled the good times and funny moments.  
Several hours later everything was neatly packed into different boxes. Some you would simply throw out, some you would give to the Salvation Army. You would only keep one box. Mementos, her jewelry, documents, stuff like that. You moved through the house with ease even in the darkness, knowing every nook and cranny. You listened to sounds of your guests but didn’t hear anything. With a relieved sigh you went into your own room and got ready for bed.

To be honest, you had expected that one of them came to visit you that night. You hadn’t expected that it would be Sam. He opened your door and sat down on your bed without a word. You scooted to the side, making room for him and he leaned in and kissed you with a hunger that startled you, almost desperate. Your heart was pounding, a shiver ran down your spine. You felt drawn to him as well as repelled. When he pushed you down on the bed you didn’t protest, you didn’t push him off you – not that you could have managed that, this guy was huge! He almost ripped your clothes off of you while you tried to rid him of his shirt. His lips and hands seemed to be everywhere, his chest was firm and you couldn’t stop staring at his abs. Fuck, that guy was a model! A male underwear model in your bed! Talk about luck!  
Everything seemed to happen so damn fast, he had you wet and impatiently waiting within minutes. And when he finally slid into you – you felt as if your mind was blown away. Your instincts took over, your body begged for more. But somewhere in the back of your mind you were uncomfortable. This was wrong. You haven’t talked three words with him and now you let him fuck you into oblivion? And oh god! Did he fuck you! You were writhing, clawed at his back, urged him on, begged him to fuck you harder, faster, deeper. He simply growled, never said a word.  
You could feel the familiar pressure in your belly, knew that you would come soon. The moment your climax hit you, making you clench around Sam’s cock, you stared up at him with wide eyes. And he stared back at you. His eyes turned black.


	2. Day 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You couldn't believe it. Sam had snuck into your room at night and without a word started making out with you. And without second thought you let him fuck you, only too see a disturbing detail just when you came: Sam's eyes had turned completely black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: attempted sexual assault on the reader (nothing graphic)

In the throes of your orgasm you screamed. With all your might. You scrambled backwards, trying to escape him, to get away, to find out what the hell just happened! You flailed around, wanted to bring space between you and him, enough distance to give you the chance to flee.   
You heard your door being slammed open and then someone shook you, yelled at you.  
“Sweetheart? What’s wrong? Wake up, kid, ‘s just a dream.” You fought his grip and panted, looked around without actually seeing anything.   
“Come on, kid, it’s me. Calm down, everything’s fine.” His voice was soothing and you blinked, tried to see something in the darkness of your room. Your room was dark… but you had been able to see Sam, there had been light. Your hazy brain needed a moment to put two and two together.   
“N-nightmare…” you stammered, recognizing the man as Dean. No Sam in sight. You took a shuddering breath, tried to shake off the remnants of this dream. It had felt so real! You squirmed a bit, noticing that you were wet. Yeah, it had felt incredibly real! You reached over towards your nightstand and turned a light on. Blinking and squinting you looked around. No Sam. When you looked over to Dean you saw a knife in his hand but he quickly hid it behind his back. What the hell did he expect to find in your room? A burglar?  
“Wanna talk about it?” he asked and you shook your head.  
“No, thanks. Uhm, no offense meant, but can you – can you just leave?” You grabbed the sheet and covered yourself with it. He frowned but nodded.  
“Sure thing, kid.”  
Before he could leave you quickly said: “And thanks. For coming up here, making sure I’m fine.”  
“Sweetheart, you have screamed like a banshee. No way I could have slept through this.”   
You showed him a weak smile and he winked at you before he finally left your room.

The next morning was awkward. You spent the rest of the night tossing and turning and when the sun started to rise you admitted defeat and got up. Coffee. Coffee and breakfast, maybe a quick dip in the river to wake up.   
You started preparing breakfast, for you and your guests even though you hadn’t planned on actually feeding them. But since it was so early and you had time – and Dean was actually really sweet, in his very own way – you ended up making eggs and bacon, toast and some fruit salad. You were just finishing your second cup of coffee when you heard someone coming through the hall. You took a deep breath and tried to mentally prepare.  
“Morning,” an already quite chipper Sam greeted you. Fuck, your heart started racing instantly and your hands got sweaty. You weren’t sure if you could look him in the eye after that dream. But you managed, just to see the hazel eyes you remembered from your dream. You only hoped they wouldn’t suddenly change their color.  
“Good morning,” you replied, hoping to sound natural and not scared out of your mind. “There’s breakfast for you.” You motioned towards the food and Sam nodded.   
“I have to leave for work soon, so if you need anything else, tell me before I have to go.”  
“Okay. Thanks.” He seemed as uncomfortable around you as you were. You both stayed silent, he started preparing a plate of food for breakfast and you cleaned the kitchen a bit.   
“So, you work at that store? What about school?” He tried to make small talk and you smiled shyly.  
“Graduated school this year. Now I have to work like everyone else.” You shrugged and sat down on the other side of the table. “What about you? What are you doing?”   
He made a vague hand motion. “We are working for an insurance company and search for heirs of deceased policy owners.”   
“Oh. And you are looking here? I mean, we are literally in the middle of nowhere.” It was a real surprise, hardly anyone ever came there.   
“We need some information, family trees mostly. Usually we only get a name and then we have to find the next relatives. And they can be anywhere. So… do you think we can find some lists here somewhere? About birthdates and marriages and stuff?” His smile was disarming or would have been if there wasn’t this edge, this indefinable something that made you wary about him. It was so odd, you had never felt like that before.  
“Church. You find the register in the church. It’s just… I don’t think they let you have a look at it. People around here are – suspicious. They don’t like strangers.” Hell, they didn’t even like you and you were born and raised there!   
“Oh, okay. Well, we can be very persuasive. Thanks for telling me.” He nodded, an earnest expression on his face. You gave him a small smile but were more than relieved when you heard footsteps coming down the stairs.  
“Mornin’,” Dean yawned and you smiled even wider now.   
“Good morning. There’s some breakfast but I have to go now,” you greeted him back and got up. “Make sure to close the door when you leave. No need to lock it, no one will come here anyway.” You quickly made your way to your bedroom and got dressed.   
When you came back down you could heard them talk.   
“Got anything?” That was Dean, but he seemed to be chewing on something. You stopped in your tracks. You didn’t want to eavesdrop but you just knew this house inside out, knew where to step to avoid the creaking of the floorboards, knew where to stand to make sure no one could see you from the kitchen.   
“She said the register is in church.” Sam’s voice was clear. It made you shiver involuntarily.  
“Hmm.” Dean made some approving sound before you could hear a cup being picked up. “Figured so much. Then we better have a look, right?”   
You took a step forwards and made sure they would hear you.   
“Okay, I’m off for now. Food’s in the fridge and when you need something, you know where to find me.” You grabbed your lunch – a simple sandwich and some fruit salad – and waved briefly, feeling awkward doing so.  
“Okay, kiddo, have a nice day at work. I promise we won’t wreck the house.” Dean shot you a smile and a wink and you could see Sam rolling his eyes in the background. You grinned and nodded.   
“You better not. There’s no other motel in this town, remember?” With that you left the kitchen and hopped on your bike. This would be a hell of a day.

You ended up being right – although you’d rather not. After a morning that mostly consisted of you doing inventory Mrs. Miller came back again, complaining about the lack of her hair color. Every day. She came every day to the shop just to bug you about her stupid hair color, making a fuss that you couldn’t keep the store stocked properly. But then again, she was right somehow. God, how much you hated being here!  
In the afternoon you got some deliveries, fresh vegetables and fruit. At least that was something you didn’t have to worry about running out of, the farmers in the area delivered twice a week. You were just at the rear entrance and put the last crates away when you heard the footsteps. A sudden sense of dread filled you, lying like lead in the pit of your stomach. Your skin tingled.   
“Well, well, look what we found here.” You swallowed hard when you heard the voice of Tyler, one of the few young guys in town. A trouble maker. Not that anyone else would see it that way, but for you he only meant trouble. Every single time he crossed your way.  
You looked up and saw him approaching, the back alley of the store giving him a great entrance. Behind you saw some other guys, maybe three or four of them. You knew them all.   
“Tyler,” you simply said with a short nod, hoping he would just let you finish your work and go away. But of course that was not what was happening. He stopped some steps away from you, but the rest of his entourage started to close in on you. Your heart suddenly pounded like crazy. This was bad.  
“Well, looks as if we found us a bitch,” Tyler smugly said, prompting the others to laugh. This was really bad.   
“Sorry, I have work to do.” You tried to hide the trembling of your voice, tried to appear confident. Deep down inside Tyler was a coward. He would never do anything – unless he had backup. Which he had.  
He laughed, but it was cold and cruel. “Yeah, work. Look, you little slut, the only thing you have to do is shut your mouth and stay still. I know what you want and I came to give it to you.” He came closer and leaned in, almost touching your face with his nose. “This time I brought some friends to join in the fun.”  
You swallowed hard but glared at him.  
“Friends? Who? Dave and Barry? I can SEE how you are trembling, guys. And Aiden, you think your momma will let this slide? And who’s that? Tom? Yeah, I expected nothing else from you.” Your hands were tightly clenched into fists but you knew you had to suppress the fear and the anger, you had to keep a clear head to get out of this. You didn’t have a weapon and despite every time you managed to get away from Tyler before – and there were a lot of those times – it was usually when he was alone. You couldn’t defend yourself against five grown men. That’s what they were. They weren’t the boys you knew since you were a little girl, those were men and they stubbornly, stupidly followed Tyler’s lead. This was really, really bad.  
Tyler gave a short nod and suddenly someone grabbed you from behind. Tom. It had to be Tom. He never liked you and he was the only one stupid enough to do that. You tried to break free from his hold but he had your arms behind your back, gripping so hard that you were sure you’d have his fingerprints on your skin.   
“Let me go!” You screamed and kicked, but to no avail. From the corner of your eyes you saw Aiden trying to sneak off. Yeah, that winy momma’s boy wouldn’t stay and risk getting in trouble, but the other two didn’t leave. Plus Tyler and Tom. You wouldn’t be able to escape this time but you wouldn’t go down without a fight. Your chest was heaving with your heavy breathing and you could feel the sweat on your face, neck and your back. And then there was another feeling, vaguely familiar but you were too occupied with your situation to pay attention to it.  
Tyler sneered. “Yeah, as if! Last time you managed to get away, but not this time. You had me stringed along for the longest time now.” He stepped closer to you, ran his nose over your cheek and inhaled your scent. You felt sick but no matter how much you strained against Tom’s grip, you couldn’t get away. You couldn’t get away!   
“I swear, if you touch me I’m gonna-“ you spat out between gritted teeth but Tyler only laughed.   
“Oh, but I’m going to touch you – everywhere I want. And you are going to take it like a good little slut. ‘Cause that’s what you are, right?” His tongue darted out between his lips and left a wet stripe over your neck, making you cry out in disgust and frustration and fear. You heard Tom chuckle behind you and closed your eyes. You wanted to pray but couldn’t. You wanted to fight, but against four guys? You wanted to cry, but couldn’t give them this satisfaction. So you kicked. You kicked Tyler against the knee, making him jerk away and glare at you. The moment he hit your face, hard, you noticed that you were not alone.   
“Let her go!”   
You used the momentarily confusion when Tyler turned around to see who it was and jerked your head back, the satisfying crack of bone and cartilage told you that you had hit Tom’s nose perfectly. He screamed and let go of you and you rushed towards Tyler and rammed your forehead against his face. Another crack, even better than the first one. Blood shot from his nose and he screamed, too, but you had trouble enjoying it. Your head spun and pain shot through it, but you picked yourself up and ran, towards the caller, towards the voice.  
Sam grabbed your arm and shoved you behind him, shielding you from your attackers.  
“What the fuck is going on here?!”   
He was furious. Furious and a giant. Tyler covered his face with his hands. He was seething, obviously considering taking his rage out on someone, but thought better of it when he realized that Sam was tally by a head at least.   
“That stupid bitch deserves it!” he yelled instead before he ran away, his buddies hot on his heels when Sam made a very intimidating step closer.   
Your knees were shaking, your heart hurting, your heart hammering inside your chest. Over and over the thought ran through your brain what would have happened if Sam hadn’t appeared like this.   
“Hey, you’re okay?” His voice was soft, almost in stark contrast to his huge frame. He was hovering above you and only that made you realize that you were sitting on the ground. You nodded slowly and tried to get up, but slipped and plopped back down. Silently the tears were streaming over your face and you needed a couple of deep breaths before you could take the next attempt on getting up. He grabbed your arm and steadied you, peering into your face.  
“Come on, I take you home.”  
“Can’t,” you feebly stammered. “The store…”  
He exhaled loudly. “Okay, how about this? I help you close the store down for today and then I take you home. Or better, let’s find a doctor. And the sheriff.”  
“No!” It came out harsher than you had planned. When you saw the shock on his face you added, softer this time: “No, it’s – I’m okay. No need to drag anyone into this…”  
You could see that he wanted to argue but your petty “please” made him swallow his comment.  
“Okay. Can you walk?”  
You nodded. Sam grabbed the crates and followed you inside the shop.


	3. Day 2 and 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After Sam rescued you there's only one place you want to be: home.

When you arrived back home you had no idea how much time had passed. The sun was still up, it couldn’t be that late. You would get trouble for leaving the store that early, but you couldn’t help it. Sam was right, you couldn’t work like that. You were still dizzy and shaking.  
“Dean!” Sam yelled the moment you arrived and it was his brother that tore the passenger’s door open and helped you out of the car.  
“Sweetheart, what happened to you?” The shock in his voice was what got you. Immediately you started crying again, inwardly cursing yourself for being weak like this. Dean wrapped your arm around his shoulder and started walking you towards the house.  
“She got cornered by some guys. But I have to give her that, she fought like a pro.” Sam took your other arm, together you managed to get inside.  
“Ice pack?” Sam let go of you, left you in Dean’s care when you croaked: “Fridge.” A second later he came back and handed you the cold cushion.  
Dean sat you down on the couch, took a seat on the coffee table, right in front of you, while you pressed the ice pack against your bruised cheek.  
“Wanna tell me what happened?” His gentle tone prompted another round of tears and you shook your head. It was bad enough like this, there was no need to make it even worse by dragging them into this whole mess.  
“Do you know them?” He just wouldn’t let it go. You nodded.  
“Tell me their names,” he demanded next and you shook your head again. You saw how he frowned in frustration before he turned towards his brother.  
“Think you would recognize them?”  
“Sure. Two of them have a broken nose, thanks to our little tiger here.” He sounded proud and you couldn’t help but laugh out at this.  
“Yeah, and I have a concussion as token of my bravery. Or stupidity.”  
The brothers shared a glance and suddenly switched places. Now Sam was sitting right in front of you, his huge hand gently cupped your face.  
“Let me take a look,” he said and peered into your eyes, slowly moved your head from left to right. “Keep looking ahead,” he ordered. Your heart was racing again, a mixture of fear and disgust and – longing? Obviously the stress and your emotions caught up with you because this was not normal.  
You were relieved when he sat back a bit and let go of your face. “No concussion, I’d say. But I guess you will wake up with a hell of a headache tomorrow after giving those jerks a headbutt like that.”  
“She did? Good girl!” Dean beamed at you and you cracked a smile before you yawned.  
“I’m sorry, but I’m so tired…” you sleepily drawled, plopping down on the couch.  
“It’s okay, try to get some sleep. You will feel better afterwards.” Dean nodded at you and Sam got up. They left the living room and you were asleep before they even closed the door.

“But you’re sure they were human?” Dean’s voice was what woke you up.  
“As sure as I can be without actually testing them. But yeah, no black smoke, no powers, no black eyes.”  
You were wide awake now. Black eyes?  
“But why would they attack a girl in broad daylight like that?” There was the clatter of some dishes and you figured they were having a very strange dinner conversation.  
“Beats me. And she didn’t want to see a doctor or tell the sheriff. Something’s off here, I’m sure that’s the right place. All the sudden deaths lately and I’d say what I witnessed today was a rare form of increased aggressiveness.” Sam just took a sip of something and when he talked again he sounded slightly hesitant. “And I really feel drawn to this place.”  
Dean let out a noncommittal hum and with that their conversation seemed to be over.  
“Hey, guys?” you called out and tried to get up. Your head still spun and you needed a moment to steady yourself. But you heard them approaching.  
“Hey, sweetheart, you’re up. How are you feeling?” Dean was the first at your side.  
“Like shit,” you admitted. “My head hurts like hell.”  
“Want a drink?” He was serious but you couldn’t help but laugh.  
“A drink, really? That wouldn’t help at all.”  
He shrugged and showed you his stunning smile. “Helps me every time.”  
“Yeah, I bet it does. But out supply is pretty limited and I’m not legal to drink yet,” you remarked and he nodded slowly.  
“You’re right. I’d better keep the rest of the bottle to myself.” His wink made your heart skip a beat but you blamed it on the stressful events of that day so far. Sam handed you a bottle with painkillers and a glass and you took both gratefully.  
“How are you feeling? Better already?” The worry in his face was adorable, if there weren’t these other conflicting emotions he invoked in you.  
“A bit, thanks. And thank you for helping me back there.” You had just noticed that you hadn’t even thanked him properly.  
“Don’t sweat it, you did most of the work anyway. And everyone would have done the same.” His smile wasn’t as bright as Dean’s, but you had to admit that he was freakishly handsome. But he was wrong. No one would have helped you, in fact you were sure that some people just passed by without even bothering to take a second look. Not in this town.  
“What time is it?”  
“A bit after 8. We just had dinner, do you want some, too?”  
You shook your head only to realize how extraordinarily stupid that was. The dizziness and the pain roared up, making you almost slump down on the couch.  
“Hey, easy there, kid.” Dean steadied you until your head settled down again.  
“I think I only want to go bed,” you admitted in a tiny voice.  
“Think you can get there on your own?”  
Usually you would have snapped at him but right now you were glad for his concern.  
“Actually… I could use some help…”  
They shared a short glance that made you tense up.  
“I only need help to get into my room. Once I’m inside I will be fine. No need for you to enter, okay?”  
“Sweetheart, you’re way too tense. Loosen up a bit, I won’t bite. But I take you to your room and you can lock once you’re inside and sleep with your shotgun next to the bed if that makes you feel any better.” He chuckled and that annoyed the heck out of you. You weren’t too careful or overly worried. You were living in this town for too long already and after what had happened earlier it was actually understandable that you were wary. Still, you knew you needed help and so you bit back the comment that was in your lips already. Instead you grabbed his arm and slowly got up on your feet.  
“You know, I could simply carry you,” he offered but you only rolled your eyes at him.  
You slept as soon as your head touched the pillow – and even that hurt.  
Sam came into your room and woke you up when the sky outside was already brightening up. You had forgotten to lock the door but somehow you had the feeling that it didn’t matter anyway. This was bound to happen. You just felt it. It felt completely wrong and right at the same time. He ripped his clothes off without saying a word and was in your bed only a split second later, slid right into your open arms. His kiss was like fever and ice, sweet and bitter. You wanted more and never do this again at the same time.  
But something was different. He tasted weird. And then this black smoke poured out of his mouth, right into yours. It suffocated you, crept into every fiber of your lungs, filled your chest and you struggled to breath, to get rid of it. The foul taste of it made you gag but Sam kept his lips pressed against your, not giving you the chance to break away.  
With a choked cry you woke up and gasped. Your heart raced and your head still hurt, the vile taste of that smoke lingered still on your tongue. You needed some time to calm down again, didn’t even notice the tears until they had soaked your pillow. 

Another night without proper sleep but full of strange dreams and fear had somehow passed and you found yourself in the kitchen, preparing some breakfast. Your coffee consumption had doubled but that was okay. At least your head didn’t hurt as much anymore, but you still had some bruises – from Tom grabbing you so hard and from Tyler. Just thinking about it made your heart race painfully hard, so you shoved the thoughts aside and focused on the pancakes you were making. With some sliced fruit it was a rather luxurious breakfast for you since you normally just ate some cereals.  
Sam was the first to come down the stairs – he seemed to be a morning person while Dean obviously wasn’t an early riser.  
“Morning,” he greeted you and took a good look at your face. Your cheek was still a red, but you could hide that under a layer of makeup.  
“Morning,” you greeted back, feeling a bit shy under his scrutiny.  
“How are you feeling today?” He grabbed some of the fruit salad you had made and sat down at the table.  
“Have been better, but I’ll live.” You quickly glanced into his eyes but they had the hazel color of him during day and not the blackness of your dreams.  
“Maybe you should stay at home today,” he suggested between two bites of melon.  
“I can’t. I have to open the store and since my bike is still there I will have to walk or take the bus. That means I will have to leave earlier than planned.” With your third cup of coffee – at least you had added a generous amount of milk – you sat down on the chair farthest from his. The breakfast went on in silence until Dean staggered into the kitchen, his hair a mess and his eyes still sleepy.  
“Mornin’,” he drawled and you smiled.  
“Good morning, sunshine,” you chirped exaggeratedly and pointed towards the coffee machine. “Coffee’s ready and today it’s pancakes.”  
“Coffee… you’re an angel…” He grabbed a mug and filled it before he sat down at the table, right in the middle of you and Sam. You handed him plate with some pancakes and he started eating, messily shoving the fluffy pancakes into his mouth.  
“Hmmm…”  
You laughed and even Sam couldn’t help but chuckle.  
“What?” Dean’s voice was muffled by the pancake he was just chewing on and you laughed even harder.  
“N-nothing… just… I have never seen someone enjoy pancakes like that,” you explained.  
“Yeah? But they’re good.”  
“You should see him when he eats pie,” Sam remarked and you raised an eyebrow.  
“Pie, huh?”  
“Yeah, pie. Got a problem with that?” Dean gave you a challenging look and you quickly shook your head.  
“Nope. I just haven’t pegged you for someone with a sweet tooth.” But somehow you now really wanted to see him eat some pie.  
“Dean, you think we can give her a ride into town later?” Sam looked at you with a small smile. Even if he was a nice guy, even though he tried hard you couldn’t shake off that uneasy feeling when he was close.  
“Sure thing. Hey sweetheart, pass me the syrup, will ya?”

The backseat of the Impala was actually really nice and since it was still early and not too hot yet the ride was more than pleasant. So much better than having to go by bike with that still throbbing headache. To be honest you were a bit afraid of today. What if Tyler or one of the others had said something to someone? You could be in huge trouble already without knowing yet. Your anxiety grew the closer you got to the store.  
When you finally arrived Sam helped you out of the car; you were still a bit weak on your legs after all.  
“We come and check on you during the day, okay? If anything is wrong, just call us.” He handed you a slip of paper with a cell phone number.  
“Thanks, guys. I really appreciate your help.” It was a strange new feeling for you that you actually got help from someone but you weren’t willing to get used to it.  
“You’re welcome, kid.” Dean winked at you and you rolled your eyes, but smiled. You turned around and unlocked the door, relieved when you noticed that nothing was amiss and that no one was waiting for you inside. Dean and Sam waited in the car until you gave them the thumbs up before they left. A day full of boring work was waiting for you and for once you were happy about that.  
Around lunch time Sam and Dean swung by, asking you about the town and the people here. Well, they didn’t come to the right person if they wanted someone with insider information and easy access to the register.  
“Seems as if no one actually wants to talk to us,” Dean just explained.  
“Of course not, you are strangers,” you replied and kept stocking the shelf with canned goods.  
“But we are here for research. This is an official visit, not just for fun,” he kept complaining.  
“And if you were J. Edgar Hoover in person they wouldn’t let you in. People around here – they have their own set of laws. Most of them don’t feel bound by the actual law. They only believe in the Ten Commandments and the words of the Bible. And whatever the preacher is saying.”  
It was suddenly very quiet and you looked up just to see the brothers share a glance.  
“The preacher?” Dean sounded suspicious.  
“Yeah, the head of the church here.” You got up and dusted off your knees. “You guys have no idea what kind of town you’re in, right?” You quickly scanned the shop before you went on, making sure no one was eavesdropping.  
“You are in Nutjob City. Welcome.” They just stared at you and you explained further.  
“People in this city believe that one of us will play a vital role in the last battle.”  
“The last battle?” Sam furrowed his brows.  
“Yeah, the last battle. You know, THE last battle. Armageddon?” You met their blank stares with your own, feeling a bit embarrassed that you had to tell them all this. “Anyway, the church – more like a cult actually – is really powerful here, and they believe that the most important weapon for the last battle will be created here, in this town.” You looked down and mumbled: “I know, that all sounds crazy, but you need the approval of the preacher first or you won’t get anything from the church.”  
You were standing in awkward silence for a moment.  
“You know, you could have told us this much sooner,” Dean groaned.  
“I tried to, but Sam said you were very persuasive so I thought you might manage.” You shrugged and walked back behind the counter just in time when a costumer entered the store. You wanted to greet them but then you saw who it was.  
“Oh hi, and who are you?” Stella, the only girl you really, really couldn’t stand. The one who pushed you into a puddle of mud when you both were five. The one who stood laughing next to the guys who threw stones at you when you were nine. The one who told the preacher she saw you doing witchcraft in the woods when you were 11. The one who egged the guys on when they tried to – to hurt you when you were 15.  
She smiled at Dean who nodded once and smiled back. Sam saw your face and only nodded.  
“Hi, I’m Sam, that’s my brother Dean. We are here for-“ he just started when you interrupted.  
“Obviously they accepted the call and came here in search for the Army of the Lord.” They turned towards you and stared. You shot them a ‘Trust me, I know what I’m doing-‘look and tried to sound annoyed. Well, not really tried, you automatically sounded annoyed whenever Stella was around.  
“Really? Then why don’t you come with me and see the preacher? You just found the right girl. Lucky you,” she beamed at them, eyed both men blatantly.  
“Uhm, sure, thanks,” Dean said, playing along. “We just wanted to ask-“ he went on but again you cut him off.  
“For directions, yeah, I got it. But if you’re not planning on buying something you should better go with Stella. She knows better where to find the preacher. It’s her father after all.” Realization dawned on Sam’s face and he nodded imperceptibly. You widened your eyes briefly to show you got it and he turned towards Stella.  
“So, Stella is it? Nice to meet you. We would really appreciate if you could show us around. We had a long drive here and don’t want to waste any more time.”  
She smiled sweetly at him. “Of course. It’s our duty to help those who lost their way. Isn’t it?” She gave you a pointed look and you only shrugged.  
“Sure, whatever.”  
Stella frowned at you. “You should really be more polite to your costumers. You don’t want anyone to complain about you, do you?” There was an edge to her words that was barely hidden.  
“Of course not,” you grit out. “Always trying to be useful.”  
“I’m sure you are. Mom sent me to tell you to get stocked up. You don’t want to end up on the list, do you?” Her singsang voice was like fingernails on a blackboard for you but you managed a faked smile.  
“Nope, not me. I see what I can do.”  
“Figured so much. Well,” Stella turned towards Dean, “then let me take you to my father so you can join our noble cause.” She shot you a dirty look and smiled at Dean who held the door for her. He gave you a confused look but you only motioned for him to follow her. You could talk at home later.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean and Sam keep surprising you, but some surprises might not be pleasant.

“Okay, just to get that right, you knew about this whole salvation thing going on here and didn’t tell us?” Dean seemed to be angry and frustrated. So were you.  
“I tried to warn you.” You shrugged and kept stirring in the pot. “But in the end the only way to get into that church is actually getting into that church. Like joining them.”   
He shot you a glare but you only smiled back at him.   
“And it worked, didn’t it?”  
“Yeah, but it took us ages to get out of there again,” he grumbled and you grinned. You figured so much, after all they were gone for more than six hours.   
“And Stella didn’t shut up about how happy she was to work with us from now on,” he added and your smile vanished.   
“One word of advice: stay away from Stella. You touch her, her father gets your head. You wouldn’t be the first guy she led on until he did something stupid and found himself beaten up in some dark alley.”   
They both stared at you.   
“Wait, what?” Dean seemed a bit shocked.  
You sighed again and turned off the stove.  
“How much did they tell you?” You wiped your hands with a towel and grabbed some bowls to fill them with this night’s dinner: chili.  
“Oh, they told us a LOT,” Dean answered and rolled his eyes.  
“Did they tell you about the Last Hope?” You put a bowl down in front of Dean and one in front of Sam before you grabbed your own dinner and sat down.   
“They said it was the only weapon against the devil and that it would be made in this town, but they didn’t tell us what it is or how to make it.” Sam took a spoon and stared eating with a thoughtful expression.  
“That’s because it’s not a weapon. They basically think one of the girls around here will be the vessel for another Messiah. That’s why the girls in this town have to stay virgin. And they think that Stella is the golden child, the chosen one. The rest – they are basically just a backup plan.” You stirred in your chili and ignored the way they looked at you.  
“All the girls?” Dean’s voice was full of disbelief and disappointment, and you couldn’t help but chuckle.  
“Well, at least every girl until she turns 25 – or gets married. Some girls I know only married young so they could have sex without – nevermind, that’s a bit personal after all.” You quickly dropped that topic. The Winchesters shared another glance.   
“That woman, Mallory, she told us to stay away from you. Why would she say something like that?” Sam suddenly asked. Okay, obviously you couldn’t drop that topic after all.  
“Mallory? You mean the preacher’s wife?” They both nodded and you sighed. “Well, first of all she doesn’t like me. That’s one thing she has in common with Stella.”  
“Why?” Dean looked at you intently and you rolled your eyes. They couldn’t just let it go, could they?  
“Okay, Stella is the golden child, right? Well, I’m basically her polar opposite. I’m the bastard child, the rotten apple.”  
“Bastard child? That’s a bit harsh…” You laughed at Dean but stopped quickly.   
“No, literally. My mom wasn’t married when she got pregnant and that didn’t sit well with the church. So they basically cast her out. I think if it weren’t for my grandma they would have kicked mom out of town. But grandma was useful so we could stay. Not that they made it easy for us, though.” And it got even worse after your mother had died.   
“They have even nicer names for me. Scum, devil’s whore. Fair game.” You turned to Sam. “That’s why I didn’t want to tell anyone about yesterday. They would blame me in the end. Nothing good can come from me. They only tolerate me as long as I’m useful.” You showed him a sad smile and he frowned.  
“So, things like yesterday – did they happen before?”  
You hesitated for a moment. “Things like that have happened before,” you finally admitted. “But usually it’s only one of them, Tyler mostly, and I can handle it when he’s alone. Yesterday though… he’s never been that aggressive.” You shrugged and Sam nodded.  
“Well, good thing I was just passing by.”   
Maybe you were slowly warming up to him, because this time his smile was only a bit unsettling.   
“Okay, so when people are treating you like crap here, why don’t you just leave?” Dean’s green eyes were directed at you. You had asked yourself that question countless of times already and truth was, you were scared. You had no other place, no family you knew of.   
“I don’t – I have no money and – where should I go anyway?” You shrugged and Dean nodded slowly.   
“Well, we spent more time on the road than anywhere else, so you can believe me, there are other towns and other people. But I think I get what you mean. Sometimes – the devil you know is better than the one you don’t.” There was a sad note in his tone and you blinked once before you smiled shyly.  
“Yeah, something like that.”   
A short moment of silence. Your gaze flitted back and forth between them, the urge to say something kept building more and more.   
“Well, you are fighters for the church, huh? I hope you won’t slay me in my sleep,” you joked, but it left a bad taste in your mouth. They shared another glance.   
“Truth is, that Mallory wants us to stay in town, find another place to stay for now. We told her we had already paid you for a week and that we can’t go back on our word.” Dean was obviously not keen on doing as Mallory said and you smiled.   
“A deal’s a deal after all, huh?” Another moment of awkward silence and shared glances between them.   
Sam cleared his throat. “You said that the people here accepted you because your grandmother was useful. What do you mean?”  
“Oh, uhm, grandma was an herbalist. You know, a nonmedical practitioner. They called her ‘herb witch’ but they rather came to her for help than to go the doctor. Funny, huh?” Your smile was a bit sad, but you were proud of your grandmother for helping those in need – even if they treated her less than stellar when they were better again. But she had her beliefs and being compassionate and helpful was part of that.   
They stared at you, making you feel stupid for telling them stuff like that. They weren’t really interested in that anyway.   
“’Herb witch’? Well, people around here suck when it comes to nicknames,” Dean broke the tension in the room and made you laugh.  
“So, have you learned something from her? Something that would explain why this chili is so friggin’ good?”   
You were still grinning when you tilted your head a bit and pretended to think about it. “Hm, maybe… I could tell you the secret ingredient but then I would have to kill you.”   
“I see you take your chili seriously,” he replied and winked at you. It was nice, the banter was welcome and the mood got lighter during the rest of the meal. 

“Mornin’, sweetheart,” Dean drawled when he entered the kitchen. You shot him a tired smile. Another night, another nightmare. Whatever this was with you and Sam, he was obviously the man of your dreams – crazy, scary dreams that left you both aroused and horrified at the same time.   
“You are late,” you simply state and put a plate on the table. Eggs, bacon, toast. “Sam’s up already. He’s outside, working out.” You had to admit that you sneaked a peek and with horror and delight you had noticed that he looked exactly like in your dreams, at least the part of him you could actually see.   
“I noticed the tattoo he has and – I know this sounds a bit weird, but don’t you have the same? I thought I saw it when you were swimming with me…” You blushed a bit, after all you just admitted that you had not looked but also remembered what he looks like.   
“Oh, yeah… that has been a bet…” Dean avoided your eyes, stared at his plate instead.  
“You know what’s funny? I have a birthmark that actually looks like your tattoos.” You let out a small laughter, but Dean’s head shot up and he looked at you.  
“Really? Wow, that’s a strange coincidence. You mean it looks like a star or something?”   
You absentmindedly rubbed your hip where the birthmark was. “No, not a star. Like a pentagram. With some small loops and stuff.”  
His eyes followed the movement of your hand and his tongue darted out to lick his lips for a second.   
“Yeah? I would love to see it…”  
You laughed again. “I bet you would. But no way. You have to take my word for it, it looks really similar.” For a moment you simply sat at the table and ate breakfast together, but then you glanced at the clock.  
“Oh, it’s late already. You better hurry or you will miss church.” You stood up and started clearing the dishes away, not caring that he didn’t move. Until he spoke up.  
“Church?”  
“Why, yes. You are members of the church now, aren’t you? Better make sure to show up for mass or you will get a stern scolding next time.” You chuckled, but you knew just how much truth was in your words. You haven’t set a foot into that church for years now, but after all you were the demon child. They didn’t miss you there.  
“Sweetheart, I’m not goin’ to church. No one told me that was part of the deal.”   
You frowned. “No one told you that you have to attend service? I mean, it’s Sunday, there’s nothing else to do anyway.”  
“Nothing?” He blinked a few times and you shook your head.  
“Nope. Everything is closed. Even the store. It’s my day off.” You smiled at this thought. A day off. Heavenly.   
Dean perked up. “Your day off? Really? Wanna go somewhere?”  
You only thought about his offer for a split second.   
“Sure! We could go to the next town and I could actually stock on all the stuff we ran out of in the store.” With hopeful eyes you looked at him. “Could we do that?”   
You noticed how his expression fell, how his jaw literally dropped a bit. But he quickly seemed to recover from the initial shock and smiled.   
“Sure thing, kid. Will it be much? Because the impala is spacious, but it’s not a truck.” 

The wholesale was in the outskirts of the next bigger city, 50 miles away from yours. For you, without a car, it could as well been another country. You clutched the list with the things you wanted to get tightly, afraid to lose it so close to the huge store.   
Dean dropped you off in front of the store.  
“I have to take care of something else, but I will pick you up here in an hour. Is that enough time?”  
“Sure, thanks.” You grabbed a shopping cart and made your way inside.   
One hour later you were standing in front of the store again, two shopping carts and a huge bag next to you. When Dean stopped and stared at you through the window you gave a small, apologizing smile. To your relief your purchase fit into the car, although you had to balance a box with cans on your knees.   
The windows were down and the wind was tousling your hair, AC/DC was playing in the radio and Dean smiled like the sun. It was the first really good day since your grandma had died. 

You took the stuff directly to the store, simply put it into the storeroom. You could put it into the shelves tomorrow.   
“I swear, Mrs. Miller will have to wear her hair in this color for the next few years or I might throw a tantrum.” With satisfaction you looked at the 20 boxes of hair color you got just for the annoying lady.   
“Hey kid, where should I put down the flour?”   
After unloading the Impala you quickly grabbed something for dinner, took the money you had spent for the supplies form the safe in the back office and got back into the car that actually felt like a Sauna by now. The sun was high and there was no cloud in the sky.  
“God, I hope this heatwave is over soon,” you mumbled and Dean chuckled.   
“Yeah, it’s pretty hot around here.”  
“It’s been like this for weeks. The livestock is dying on the farms, the crops are burning and people are collapsing every day. It’s just too much,” you said, your head against the headrest, eyes closed.   
“Grandma died because of sunstroke. Apparently she got dizzy and fell, lay there for hours before I got home and found her.” The memory was still too fresh for you to not get choked up because of it. For a moment the slightly droning version of “What do you do for money honey” and the rumbling of the engine were the only sounds in the car.   
“I’m sorry… that must have been hard.”   
You shrugged. And then the tears started.   
When you came back to the house Sam was sitting on the porch, typing on his laptop. He looked up and came over to help you with the groceries, but you simply ran past him, towards the river. You didn’t even notice the look Sam shot Dean, accusing and annoyed. You simply yanked your shirt and shorts off and jumped into the water, letting it carry you away a bit before you swam towards the surface again. It was strange how soothing it felt, the cool water on your skin, your face. It was familiar, felt safe, like home even more than the house did.   
You had no idea how long you actually stayed there but when you padded back to the house, your shirt thrown over your wet underwear, your stomach rumbled. You directly went into the kitchen and started making a sandwich when you heard footsteps. Unsure if you were really ready to face anyone you tried to make no sounds but of course it didn’t help. It was Sam who slowed down his steps when he saw you.   
“Oh hey… feeling better now?” His brows were furrowed, the concern evident in his eyes, his face, his whole posture.   
You gave him a wry smile. “Yeah, a bit, thanks.” You had no idea what exactly Dean had told him but you didn’t care. All you could think about what this pain that was consuming you. And the anger.   
“You want something, too?” You motioned towards your sandwich and Sam smiled.   
“Thank you. That would be great.”  
You nodded and opened the fridge to get some more cheese and lettuce, going through the motions without even thinking about it. And even though there still was this nagging feeling in the back of your mind you somehow started to like Sam. 

The next day you were standing behind the counter again, the shelves restocked and ready to get raided by the townspeople. Dean and Sam had told you they would try to get their hands on the register again and you didn’t expect to see them, but around lunch Sam came through the door. Mrs. Miller had just left, buying only one stupid box of hair color. You nearly yelled at her after she had been bugging you for ages.   
“Hey, what are you doing here?” You had nothing to do, nothing to busy your hands so you simply stood there awkwardly, wringing your hands.  
“I just had some questions and I hoped you could answer some of them.” He gave you that dimply smile he sometimes flashed, the one that reminded you of the dream you had last night, the dream full of heated kisses and needy touches, full of images of his naked body covering yours, moving in a breathtaking rhythm. This perfect dream until he had sunken his teeth into the flesh of your shoulder until the blood poured from the wound he ripped into you, making you scream in agony before you opened your eyes again to see only your bedroom and your flawless shoulder. These nightmares were slowly driving you crazy.   
“Sure, ask away.” You shrugged, in the end it didn’t matter anyway.   
“I heard there have been several deaths lately. More than usual?” He leaned on the counter, his hazel eyes scanning your face.  
“There were a few lately, but I don’t know if it’s more than usual. I mean, how many are too any? If you ask me, just one is one too much.” You weren’t sure why he asked you this at all.  
“But I don’t think that we need your services here. I mean, people around here pass their belongings on to their family or the church. No need to search for heirs at all.” You were uncomfortable with this topic, after all your grandma was one of the deaths he referred to. And Harry, the shop owner. You had always suspected that he had a crush on your grandma and that’s the reason he gave you that job after all.   
“I get what you’re saying. But sometimes it’s necessary for us to write down a genealogy and for that we always have questions.” His answer didn’t make much sense to you but he said it with such sincerity that you found yourself nodding.   
“I’ve heard of-“ You quickly counted in your head. “Seven. Most of them already older. The heat is getting to them, says the preacher.”  
“Seven? In how many weeks?” He kept staring at you, making you slightly uncomfortable.   
“I don’t know for sure. Around six weeks?” Seven dead people in six weeks. Your grandma had been the second one. Harry was number four.   
“Did they have anything in common?” His voice was really nice. Somehow you just relaxed and wanted to tell him everything. Strange. Must be because you were so tired.   
“You mean if they were all related? No, I don’t think so. And they died differently. Two heatstrokes, I think one had a heart attack. I’m not sure about the rest. People don’t really talk to me.” You ran your hands over your face and through your hair.   
“And you knew them all?”   
You found yourself nodding. “Of course. I know everyone in this town.”  
This time he was the one who nodded. Slowly. 

Sam left shortly after that and you were glad. Although you still had some work with restocking the shelves you would rather go home. It was hot and stuffy in the store and costumers were rare. You quickly got some groceries for you and your guests and closed the shop, 15 minutes too early but honestly, you didn’t even care if Stella or Mallory or even the damned preacher himself would lecture you about that tomorrow.   
When you reached the house you saw Dean standing in front of the open hood of your car. Well, since it was a Beetle he was actually standing behind the car, but you were too irritated to see him working on your car to care for details. He just wiped his greasy hands with a rag when you stopped your bike next to him.  
“What are you doing?!” This car had belonged to your mother and you weren’t sure if you liked the thought of him touching it without your permission.   
“Hey kid, back already? I just wanted to take a look at her and I think I might be able to fix her. Got some spare parts yesterday in a garage while you were shopping.” He grinned at you, obviously pleased with himself.   
You frowned. Her? Really? Was he one of those guys who gave their cars a name? You glanced over at the black classic car and didn’t even have to ask. You just knew it.   
“Okay, I don’t wanna sound ungrateful, but I don’t like it when people just – just go through my stuff. Even if the stuff is an old pile of junk.” It was still hot, you were tired and a bit cranky and honestly you had the feeling that someone had moved stuff in the house and that just didn’t sit right with you.   
He just raised his hands as if to appease her.   
“Okay, I get it. Sorry for touching your car. But I think I made it. Should work now.” He handed you the key – wait, where did he get that?! – and nodded once towards the car. You hesitated but got off the bike and slipped into the car. It was strange sitting there again, even more so since you could remember vividly how your mother was sitting behind the wheel. Your hands carefully grabbed the wheel, you took a deep breath before you turned the key. The engine rumbled to life, it didn’t sound completely healthy just yet, but it actually ran. The smile on your face was much more than a sign of happiness. This car was much more than just a means of transportation or even some keepsake. It was your ticket out of here.   
“She still needs gas, but that’s easy to fix.” Dean shouted over the rumbling engine and you turned it off. You wanted to cry. Not even two minutes ago you had been slightly angry at him, irritated that he moved in your house, on your property as if he owns it. And now you wanted to hug the living hell out of him. But you held back, stayed right there in the driver’s seat of your own, now finally working car.   
“Thank you,” you muttered, voice thick with emotions you couldn’t even name.   
He smiled at you as if you had just awarded him with something invaluable.   
“You’re welcome, kid. My pleasure.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A nice dinner with the Winchesters...

That night you had another nightmare, the most intense, realistic one so far. You woke up with the taste of blood in your mouth, just after dreaming of Sam biting your neck while fucking you against a wall and kissing you to feed some of your own blood back to you.   
You were shivering and crying, couldn’t stop the sobbing, had trouble breathing. What was happening with you? Why Sam? Why all these nightmares since you met him? You didn’t even like him, so why did you end up having sex with him in your dreams every single night? And these dreams were just to disturbing to ignore. You were still trying to calm down when you heard a knock at your door.  
“Sweetheart? Everything okay? You were screaming earlier…”  
You quickly wiped your face with your hands and tried to even your voice.   
“Yes, thank you. Everything okay. Just – just another bad dream.” You counted the seconds till his answer, half hoping and half fearing he might go.  
“Should – can I come in?”  
You closed your eyes, took a deep breath. What did you want?   
“Sure. Come in.”   
The door opened and you sat up in bed, trying to make yourself presentable before switching on the small lamp on your nightstand. You squinted against the light but looked up to see Dean coming into your room, stopping in front if your bed. Without a word you scooted over so he could sit down on the edge.   
“Wanna talk about it?”  
You shook your head. “Not really.”  
He hummed, showing he understood. For a moment he only looked around your room, gazing at pictures you had pinned at the wall, books in your shelf, the stuff that had accumulated during your whole life in this place.  
“I – I never had that many nightmares before,” you broke the silence. “I always had weird dreams, but not like this. Not that scary…” You shrugged, unsure how to explain what you meant. Afraid he would think you’re crazy, dreaming this weird shit about his brother.   
“Some people say that talking ‘bout dreams helps. Takes the mind off things,” he casually says, but looks at you expectantly.   
“It’s just – I don’t want to bother you with this stuff,” you try to worm your way out of this conversation.  
“I’m here, I’m listening. You’re not a bother at all, kid.”   
God, how green can eyes be? You ran you hands over your face again, half hiding from him.   
“It just sounds so, so strange. Like really strange stuff. Really, really strange.”  
He showed you a sad smile.   
“Trust me, strange is just my thing.”   
You hesitated some longer but you really felt like bursting if you didn’t talk with anyone about it.   
“So I dream this dark and twisted stuff about this guy. It’s always the same guy and now I can hardly look at him anymore without getting this strange feeling. As if dream and reality somehow merge. I – it’s really hard to describe.” You sighed and shrugged, this was all just so weird.   
“So, that dude in your dreams – he’s a real person?”  
You nodded, too tired and confused to actually answer.  
“And you met him often?”  
Another nod.  
“So maybe that’s the reason. Has he done anything to you? Like this Tyler-guy?” Dean’s eyes narrowed at the mention of that name.  
“No! God, no. He is perfectly nice to me in reality. Just in my dreams… it’s really frightening. Ever since it started I’m afraid to go to bed. But I can’t stay awake forever, huh?” You let out a weak chuckle, earning you a sympathetic smile from Dean.   
“You know, when I was a kid, like really young, my mom used to say that there’s an angel watching over me so I didn’t have to be afraid of anything,” you went on. “She stopped saying it eventually and honestly, after everything that happened with her and this city I just can’t believe it anymore. But hearing her say it had always put me at ease.”  
“Yeah, my mom said stuff like that, too.” Dean took a deep breath. “I don’t believe in angels. The bad stuff, yeah, I can believe that, but I haven’t found that much good stuff in life. Not enough to make me believe in kind powers at least.”   
“Wow, a kindred spirit, huh?” you teased him, trying to lighten the mood a bit. “You don’t believe in the good stuff and yet you fixed my car. Sounds kind enough for me.”   
He grinned sheepishly. “Well, it was part fun for me, you know? I just love working on cars. It’s so easy, you replace the worn parts, tighten some screws here and there, add some new oil and it’s working again. If everything in life was that simple…” He shrugged and you smiled at him.   
“Thank you.” You bumped your shoulder lightly against his. “Not only for the car. Thanks for – you know, listening and stuff.”   
“For a girl you don’t really have a way with words, huh?” He bumped back into you, making you laugh.   
“I could tell you in four different languages, I have a lot of words. I’m just not used to anyone treating me in a way that would deserve those words,” you answered half jokingly.   
“Four languages? Aren’t you a smart kid?” He flashed you a grin. “Sammy would like that. He’s the smart one, just in case you haven’t noticed yet.”   
You flinched only a tiny bit at the mention of that name before you willed yourself to relax again.  
“I think you are plenty smart yourself. Don’t sell yourself short.”  
You wanted to reach out and touch him, run your fingers over the freckles on his nose and cheeks. His green eyes bore into you, making you shy and flustered like a school girl.   
“I – uhm, I should better get back to sleep. I have to work tomorrow,” you mumbled, tearing your eyes away from him. This was just stupid! Yes, he was handsome and nice and flirty, but you had no time for that. There were other things you had to take care of and you were well aware that he would soon be gone anyway. No one stayed longer than necessary in this loony bin of a town.  
“Sure thing. Hope you have better dreams now.” He patted your shoulder and got up, waited for you to slip back under your covers before he walked to the door.   
“Good night. And I’m sure, if there was anything like an angel, it would watch over you.” He winked and you smiled at him.   
“Thank you. Good night.”   
You turned out the light after he closed the door behind him, but it took you some time before you finally fell back asleep. 

In the morning you decided to make dinner this night. Real dinner. As a ‘thank you’ for Dean and another attempt of getting used to Sam. You raided the freezer, found a duck you had completely forgotten and put it in the sink so it could defrost a bit before you started making breakfast.   
Sam was the first to pop up, obviously more the early bird. You smiled at him politely, still a bit caught in your wariness but willing to put that past you. Dean was so nice to you and really, Sam never did anything to deserve the distance you created between you.   
“Good morning. Want some breakfast?” You motioned towards the plate with scrambled eggs and toast.  
“Sure, thanks.” Sam smiled politely and eyed you carefully over his plate.  
“Coffee?” You raised the coffee pot next to you.  
“No, thanks.” He looked back at his plate and started eating.  
Without another word you put a glass with orange juice down next to him before you went back to prepare some things for dinner.  
“I thought about having a nice dinner tonight. You think you and Dean have time to join me?” You didn’t even look at Sam while asking, still peeling apples and slicing them.  
“Yeah, sure. Thanks. What’s the occasion?”  
You shrugged. “Just felt like it. And I have to make room in the freezer so…” You motioned towards the sink and Sam nodded.  
“Oh, okay. We’ll make sure to be here on time. Have to go back to church today and find out some stuff.”  
You made a face, glad he couldn’t see you.  
“Well, don’t let Stella talk you into having dinner with her family. I swear, the preacher is so scary. Don’t you think so?”  
“I wouldn’t know, we haven’t met him yet.”   
Now that got your attention. You turned around and looked at him.  
“Really? They let you join without seeing the preacher first? Now that’s odd. Usually he has to give his blessing and stuff. Well, maybe they will do that today.”   
You weren’t an expert when it came to the church after all, you weren’t even a member, but as far as you knew the preacher always had the last word when it came to new members.   
“Mornin’, sweetheart. Slept better tonight?” Dean came in, looking still sleepy and disheveled. Your heart leapt a bit at that sight.  
“Yeah, thanks. Coffee?”   
“Sure.” He just wanted to get a cup when he glanced into the sink.  
“Kid, you know that there’s a dead bird in your sink?”  
You chuckled. “Yeah, it had been complaining about my cooking skills.” You gave him a pointed look and he laughed.  
“Okay, I get it. No complaining. Mornin’, Sammy.” Dean plopped down in a chair and you put a plate with eggs and toast down in front of him before you got him coffee.  
“So, why’s Mr. Birdie over there taking a bath in the kitchen?”  
“He’s joining us for dinner and wants to make sure he’s nicely groomed for that,” you joked back.  
“Dinner, huh?”   
“Yep. Nice, homemade dinner. Roasted duck, mashed potatoes, veggies. Pie for dessert.” You nodded towards the bowl with apple slices.   
Dean sat up straight. “Pie? Homemade pie? What flavor?”  
“That’s a secret,” you teased him and put the bowl into the fridge.   
“I’m off for work now. Dinner is around 8, bring some appetite.” You grabbed your lunch and waved goodbye, for the first time in ages simply happy.

Of course this feeling wasn’t meant to last. When you were on your way back after work you were also back to your usual misery. It all started with Tyler. That guy stood in front of the store for almost an hour, constantly glaring at you. He didn’t come in, he didn’t have the balls for that, knowing you had a shotgun under the counter. But it was enough that he kept staring at you, standing in the burning sun, not moving at all. It was so creepy. When he finally turned around and left you were shaking, not sure how to deal with this.   
You closed the shop early, half an hour before you usually did, but you wanted to avoid Tyler – or anybody else – waiting for you when you came out. You cursed lowly when you saw that the wheels of your bike had been destroyed. Not only the tires cut or something, but literally broken. There was no bus in this town and your only option was to walk. The sun was still scorching and it was a long way, but you almost ran most of the time until you left the town. Only when the last houses were out of sight you slowed down, already covered in sweat and dirt from the road. At least no one came after you. But you couldn’t shake off the feeling of being watched, of something looming. Maybe the heat was getting to you or you simply lost your mind.   
You still had two or three miles to go when you heard the low rumble of an engine behind you. You almost feared that Tyler had followed you, but when you turned around you saw the already familiar black Impala coming closer. With the heat and the exhaustion you felt your knees getting weak, slumped down on the roadside and simply sat there, waiting for them to catch up with you. The car stopped next to you and Sam opened the passenger’s door.  
“What are you doing here? What happened?” He seemed genuinely worried and you only flashed him a tired smile before you let him help you up – the touch of his hand on your wrist made you flinch a bit – and got into the car.  
“You won’t believe me anyway, so just – I don’t know, pretend this never happened and take me home, please.” You curled up on the backseat, still shaking slightly, not even noticing the glance they shared.   
Once the Impala came to a halt in front of your house you impatiently waited for Sam to let you out before you stormed off into the kitchen, towards the cabinet that held the preserved fruit your grandma has made each year. And a few bottles of homemade wine. You grabbed the first that you could reach and opened it before one of the brothers could even walk into the kitchen. One glass of rather tart bramble wine later you felt better already, although your hands were still shaking.   
“Kid? What’s wrong?” Dean rushed in, a frown on his face.   
You shook your head and poured yourself another glass. Sam followed his brother inside. His brows were furrowed and he looked concerned. You plastered a faked smile on your face and took a deep breath.  
“Sorry, just – hard day at work. I’m going to start dinner preparations now. Please, just – cooking helps me. Helps me to focus. Think.” You gave them a pleading look and Dean shrugged after a few moments.   
“Need a hand, sweetheart?”   
You shook your head and started pulling ingredients out of the fridge, ending the conversation for now.   
It had been a stupid idea to make a roasted duck. Outside it was still hot and when you finally had everything ready so far that you could take a break you were almost melting. The duck still had time in the oven, the pie would follow as soon as the duck came out. Potatoes and carrots were already prepared, all you could do now was waiting. And you weren’t in the mood for waiting. So you went for a swim.  
The water felt like heaven and you closed your eyes and just sank in deeper until you had to move to stay afloat. It was already getting late but there was still enough light that you could see Dean walking down towards the boardwalk.  
“Whatcha doing, sweetheart?”  
“Trying not to sink under,” you replied and lazily moved your feet, paddling a bit.   
“Mind if I join you?” He was already taking off his shirt and you were instantly reminded of the first day of their stay, when you saw him almost naked after barely knowing his name. Yeah… well, you wouldn’t complain, he was really a looker.  
“Come in, it’s enough water for the both of us.” You mentally chided yourself for being so – ugh, so frigging attracted to him, but you were strong enough – or maybe stubborn enough – not to let him come between you and your plans. No matter how nice he was, how many nice things he did for you, you had a plan and you would see it through.   
He jumped into the water, splashing a bit, sending waves into your direction. Some strokes later he was next to you.  
“Saw the birdie in the oven and was wondering where you were.” He was panting slightly, the effort getting to him. The current was strong today. Maybe a storm was coming, you could only hope so because the area really needed the rain.   
“Yeah, figured I had some time for a break. It won’t be done for another half an hour, so…” You duck under the water and came back up, wiping your face with one hand.  
“Must be hot as hell in the kitchen now, huh?”  
“Yeah, I must be stupid to make something like roasted duck during a heatwave like this,” you joked back and he smiled.   
“Nah, not stupid. Maybe a bit – I don’t know, exaggerated. The duck, not you.”   
You chuckled and turned around, floating on your back again.   
“You know, my mom died here. Not here here, a bit down the stream. Half a mile or so.” You had no idea why you told him that but it felt good. Somehow. “People say she killed herself. I can’t believe that. She would have never-“ You stopped and looked over to Dean who stared at you but caught himself, flashed you a sympathetic smile before he splashed you with a handful of water.  
“Dark topic on a nice day like this.”  
You gave him a tired smile. For you this day hadn’t been so nice after all.  
“What? You afraid of ghosts?” you teased him, an unreadable expression crossed his face before he grinned again.  
“Nah. Just don’t want you to get all down. You could burn the pie or something.”   
“And that’s my cue to go back.” You laughed and swam to the boardwalk, climbed up the latter and grabbed your towel. Dean followed you and for a moment you were embarrassed, this time you were wearing your swimsuit instead of a t-shirt.   
“Is that your birthmark?” He pointed towards your right ribcage and you nodded.   
“Yeah, it is.” Immediately you covered yourself with the towel.   
“Can – can I see it?” He seemed genuinely curious, there was no underlying meaning for you to notice. Hesitantly you lowered the towel and turned a bit so he could see. It was a strange birthmark, a lighter color than the rest of your skin. His fingertips hovered over your ribs, but he didn’t touch you. His breath was hot against your wet skin and your skin tingled.   
“Wow, you’re right… looks like my tattoo.”   
“It never tans,” you breathlessly explained. “In the summer you can see it better. In the winter it’s nearly invisible, it blends in with my skin then…”   
This felt strangely intimate and you weren’t completely comfortable with that. Fortunately he pulled back again and straightened up, much to your relief.   
“You know, our mom died when Sammy was still a baby. A house fire. Our dad managed to get us out, but not her.” His voice was low and he looked at you, his green eyes searching for something in your face, flitting between your eyes and your lips. This was – this was bad. So bad. He leaned in, just a tiny bit, almost as if to ask if this was okay, if you were okay. God, you wanted nothing more than to close the distance and kiss him, feel his lips, his hands on you.  
But you didn’t. Instead you cleared your throat and took a step back.  
“Uh… the duck… I have to go and check…” you stammered, your heart hammering in your chest. ‘Friggin’ idiot!’ the voice in your head screamed but you knew you shouldn’t give in. Never give in. Always on guard.   
The irritation was only brief in his expression before he flashed you a smile.   
“Yeah, don’t want it to burn to a crisp now.” You noticed that he was breathing heavily, maybe from swimming in the cold water, maybe he was just as affected but this – this thing just now as you were. You nodded quickly and started walking back, not even waiting for him. 

Dinner was a huge success, at least the cooking. Both Sam and Dean asked for seconds and when you brought the pie you all were already pretty stuffed.   
“Why roasted duck?” Sam suddenly asked, making you smile.  
“That was the last dish my mother taught me. It was her favorite.”   
“It was good. Never had a duck like that before,” he complimented you.  
“Flattery will get you nothing – except for a slice of pie,” you teased back, already handing Dean a plate before you prepared one for Sam. As long as you didn’t touch Sam you started to feel more comfortable around him.   
“So, wanna tell us about today? When we picked you up on the road?” Dean’s voice sounded casually but you felt their eyes on you. After a moment you got up and grabbed the bottle of bramble wine, poured a glass and downed it.   
“You guys want a drink?”   
Dean watched you, taken aback a bit. “Shouldn’t you go easy on that? You’re not even legal yet.”   
You chuckled briefly. “You wanna turn me in? Go and find the sheriff? He doesn’t care, believe me.” There were other bottles in that cabinet, some with a bit harder stuff.   
“Here. It’s not bourbon but it will make you drunk without going blind.” You set down a bottle and some glasses before you got another glass of wine for yourself. With a sigh you sat down again.  
“Okay, you really want me to talk? Then start drinking because I know how crazy that all sounds and I don’t want to be sober telling you this and I don’t want you to be sober listening to this.” After another swig of your wine you watched them cautiously sniffing at the bottle before Dean poured a bit into his glass, raised it and muttered: “Here we go.”   
He drank the liquor and you laughed at his face, shock and disbelief mixed and then he coughed heavily, making Sam laugh, too.   
“Holy shit, kid! You wanna kill me?!” Dean’s face was red but he grinned when he saw you and Sam laughing so hard that you had tears in your eyes.   
“Hm, actually it’s not half bad,” he announced and poured himself another glass.  
Once you had calmed down a bit and were half through your second glass of wine you gathered your courage.  
“Okay, so I know this sounds weird, but lately I have the feeling the whole town gangs up on me. Even more than usual.”  
Sam frowned, the crease between his brows deepened.   
“What makes you think that?”  
You shrugged. It was mostly just a feeling and hard to explain.  
“Someone broke my bike. They did that before, too, but this time…” It was the timing. You were sure it had been Tyler but you had no prove.   
“Why did you take the bike in the first place? Why didn’t you take the car?” Dean leaned back in his chair, watching you.  
“Yeah, well, that’s the thing. When you fixed my car, did you notice anything – unusal?” You kept it vague, not wanted to influence him in any way.  
“Unusual? You mean like the cut oil tube?”   
You knew it! You took another deep breath.  
“I have the feeling they don’t like me having a car. I didn’t want to give away the fact that it’s working again.” You raised your glass and took another sip.   
“They tampered with your car?” Both looked at you in disbelief.   
“I think so. And today they ruined my bike. And then there was Tyler, standing in front of the store for what felt like an eternity and just – he just stared! It was so creepy…” You shuddered at the memory. The underlying threat in his whole stance, the way he just stood there in the sun, his eyes never leaving you – that had really scared you.  
Sam’s expression changed, the crease between his brows got even deeper.  
“Tyler? Today? Really? When was that?”   
You shrugged again.  
“Around noon. For over one hour. I thought he would get a sunstroke if he stayed out there any longer.” Not that you would have cared.   
Dean and Sam shared a glance.   
“Are you sure?” Sam asked again.   
“Yes, of course I am.” What was the big deal with that?  
Dean shifted in his seat, leaned closer to the table.  
“Well, that’s really strange, kid. You might not have heard of it yet, but Tyler has been found dead. This morning.”


	6. Day 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You are going crazy - that's the only explanation for what's happening. Or is this an evil prank? Unfortunately you find out the hard way.

You gaped at Dean.  
“He… wait, what?!” You knew the meaning of his words but couldn’t understand them. It didn’t make any sense!  
“Yeah, seemed like heart failure. No signs for accidents or outside influences.” Dean shrugged and watched you pouring another glass – from the hard stuff. You gulped it down, shook lightly and panted while it burned down your throat.  
“Whoa, easy there, kid.” Dean reached over the table and took the bottle from you.  
“You’re kidding me! He – he isn’t dead, right? I mean, I saw him, I really saw him! I could even see that his nose was still swollen from – from a couple of days ago…” You were still shaking, tried to will your hands calm but it didn’t work.  
“Sorry, but he is really dead. We – we heard from Stella. She was really shaken and Mallory filled us in about the details. They had just talked with his mother and the doc around here has confirmed it. Definitely dead.” Sam looked at you, concern and – what was that? Suspicion? – in his eyes. He furrowed his brow, the lips tightly pressed together.  
“But – but I saw him! It was him and he was there and he – he can’t be dead!”  
“Calm down, kid. Maybe you got the time wrong. Maybe he really was there, but long before noon.” Dean reached out to pet your hand but you jerked it away.  
“If that’s a joke it’s not funny,” you hissed and glared at them. “Did they – did they tell you? Did they want you to do this to me?!” It wouldn’t have been the first time the church played cruel pranks on you.  
“Stella and Tyler… they put you up to this, right? They want to see if you can break me, if I give in already. But – but you can tell them I won’t.” You jumped up from your chair, almost knocked it over.  
“Kid, this ain’t a joke,” Dean tried to calm you down but you only got madder.  
“You’re damn right, it isn’t! So stop that now!” You yelled at him, tears already welling up in your eyes. A bit calmer you added: “Tomorrow, you pack your stuff and leave my house.”  
You were seething. First they acted all friendly and now they did this. Of course you didn’t want them near you anymore! Without listening to further lies from them you stormed off, up the stairs, into your room. You locked the door behind you and curled up on your bed, crying yourself to sleep.

For the first time since the nightmares started you knew it was just a dream. It still felt real but you were aware of the state you were in, but it didn’t make it easier to bear. Especially since this was also the first time Sam spoke to you in your dreams.  
“Why are you still resisting me, my queen? Why won’t you just give in to temptation?” His voice was low and smooth, smarmy. It didn’t sound like him at all.  
“What do you want from me?” Your voice sounded pathetic. No matter how much your rage burned within you, there was no way to express it through your voice.  
He was standing right in front of you, almost close enough to touch you, but he didn’t.  
“Don’t you already know?” He smirked, his eyes cruel although his lips curled into a wide smile. It was a scary sight. He was so much taller than you, and although he was pretty scrawny power rolled off him in waves, making your knees shake.  
“You are my very special girl,” he said and leaned in closer, inhaled your scent while you pressed your eyes shut. You were trembling but couldn’t move, fear and something else anchored you to the spot. Fear and arousal. Oh shit, you wanted him! You wanted this dream to be like all the others before, wanted him to fuck you hard and without mercy and as if on cue Sam suddenly wrapped a large hand around your throat and pressed you against a wall, held you in place while his nose ran from the base of your neck up to your ear.  
“I’ve been waiting for you,” he whispered and licked the shell of your ear, making you sob and shudder but in your hazy state you weren’t exactly sure if you liked this or not. You knew that you were terrified, but did you actually dislike his touch? Your body seemed to react in a complete different way than your mind.  
“I can make them all bow in front of you… no one will ever bother you again. No one will speak badly of you, no one will shoot you these disparaging looks again. You will be a queen and everyone will treat you like one.” His voiced echoed in your mind, painted pictures of a future that was just waiting for you allow it to happen. He caressed your cheek with his free hand while he still held you tight against the wall. You opened your mouth, the “yes” already on the tip of your tongue. You opened your eyes only to see his face close to yours, making you gasp at the sight of his completely black eyes.  
“No!” You wanted to push against his chest, wanted to get away, but he increased the pressure on your throat, cut off your breathing with a cold smile.  
“You will be mine or you will die. Choose.” 

You woke up with a start, panting, covered in sweat. What the hell was that dream? What the hell was wrong with you? Maybe you were really going crazy. You turned on your bedside lamp and quickly scanned your room. It was 5am, the sky began already to brighten but the house was still quiet. For a moment you considered going back to sleep for another hour but then you got up. Your body felt heavy, exhausted, and your mind was still hazy. This was not good. The sooner Sam got out of your house, out of your life the better. Hopefully he would take these scary dreams with him.  
You sneaked down the stairs as silently as possible, making your way towards the kitchen to eat breakfast before they got up. To your surprise the keys to their rooms were already waiting for you on the table, together with some dollar bills and a note.  
“I’m sorry if we upset you, but that wasn’t a joke and we’re not playing with you. If you ever need help, call me. Dean”  
He had scribbled a number at the bottom of that note but you crumbled the piece of paper and threw it on the floor. As if you would ever want to talk with them again! So they were gone, great! Just what you had wanted! You stomped through the kitchen, making coffee and getting some cereals when you realized that you would have to walk to town today. Your bike was still at the store and you couldn’t take the car. Not after Dean had already confirmed your suspicions that actually someone had tampered with your car. You wouldn’t risk this again. You thought about just staying at home for a moment but you knew that wasn’t wise. You’d better lay low for the time being, better avoid troubles and fights. Your eyes flitted to the one loose floorboard that hid your biggest treasure, but now was not the time to take it out and look at it again. It was the time to get ready and walk to town. 

You opened the shop in time and cursed yourself for even coming. In the first three hours no costumer came and you used the time to clean and organize the store. Every once in a while your gaze wandered towards the spot where Tyler had stood the day before, staring at you. There was no doubt in your mind that it had indeed been him, you would recognize that face everywhere. But what if it had only been in your mind?  
You could still hear the whispers of the people after your mother had died. They said she had killed herself to drown out the voices in her head. That she had gone crazy, that her sins had finally took their toll. That you would meet the same end one day. You were a tainted child after all.  
You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, imagined something nice, a meadow in spring, flowers bending in a light breeze. Anything but this.  
The bell on the door snapped you back into reality.  
“Welcome!” Your friendly greeting was returned in kind when you saw Darleen, the waitress from the diner. One of the few people in town who didn’t treat you like crap.  
“Have you heard about Tyler? His mother found him yesterday morning.” She chatted on and on but those words filled your mind completely. Yesterday morning. It was no lie after all. But that left only one logical explanation: You were losing your mind.  
The time crept slowly and you were several times at the point to simply close the store and leave. But where should you go to? Home for now? Maybe you should pack your things and leave. Another city, a new life. Go and see a therapist, someone who could help you when you went insane. You could get a job, go to college, met people who didn’t think you were the devil himself. Could you do that? Could you just leave?  
You had to, but not right now. Patience was a virtue, although no one seemed to think you actually had something like virtues. You would need supplies, food and other stuff. Harry jr. wouldn’t pay you until next week, but you could take some things and write them down. Payment in kind. Of course you would have to get the stuff back home somehow. You could only carry that much, it was a long way back and the heat didn’t make things easier. Or you could come back at night. With your car. You could go back home later, pack your stuff and come back to the store when everyone was already asleep. Yes, that’s what you would do. With a plan and new determination you started packing food and supplies into cardboard boxes, jotting down what you took.  
Business was slow and you could close the store on time, anxiously waiting for the moment you could leave. All the years you have waited for this and now that it was there you were afraid. Afraid something could come in between you and your freedom now. But at least there had been no strange incidents today, no dead guys hanging around. Maybe you weren’t crazy after all.  
When you stepped out of the backdoor and locked it you could feel it again. Like eyes on you, someone watching. You brushed it off, told yourself it was just nerves, no one knew what you were planning after all. Ignoring your broken bike you started walking home in a brisk pace, trying to avoid any encounter now. But when you turned a corner you almost bumped into someone. No, not someone. Sam. He grabbed your arm and saved you from falling on your butt, only recognizing you when you looked up to him. Your skin tingled under his touch and the dream from last night clouded your thinking, made you jerk back before you could stop yourself. He looked hurt.  
“Sorry.” You both mumbled this tiny apology at the same time, making you chuckle.  
He peered into your face, his hazel eyes completely normal. “Are you okay? You’re looking – spooked.”  
With a tight smile you reassured him that you were fine, but he didn’t believe you.  
“Hey, I know we had a rough start and yesterday was-“ he started only to got cut off by you.  
“No, it – yesterday was my fault. I –“ you snickered briefly, “obviously I’m losing my mind and that made me a bit cranky. I heard about Tyler from Darleen. Sorry for – saying all that stuff.”  
He nodded, visibly relieved. “It’s okay, you had a rough day. Are you – are you walking home again? I could give you a lift.”  
You hesitated, partly because he still made you uneasy, partly because you still felt a bit guilty about your little tantrum last night. But walking around an hour in the heat – you would gladly swallow your pride for a ride back home.  
“Thanks, that would be – that would be great.” Your smile made him sigh in relief and smile back at you, full force with dimples showing and hazel eyes sparkling. He seemed really happy about you taking him up on his offer. And of course that made you uneasy again.  
“The car’s parked down the street a bit. I’m just finding Dean and get the key, you go ahead already, I’m with you in a minute.”  
You nodded and watched him hurry off, taking big strides. You shook your head, that guy was really huge. But there was also a small smile. You were glad that you have been able to apologize after all. Turning into the direction he had pointed to you started walking until you reached the Impala. It wasn’t hard to spot, being the only car of that type in the whole town after all. You haven’t even reached the car when you felt a sharp pain, like your head was exploding. And then – nothing. 

You’re head was pounding, pain shot through you with every heartbeat, made you feel as if someone played drums on your skull. You were lying on a floor, it was cold which was odd due to the heat outside. There were voices but they sounded distant, muffled. You needed a moment to adjust to the darkness, your vision blurry with tears, your eyelids heavy. What had happened?  
To your horror you found your hands tied behind your back when you tried to get up. Okay, okay, no time for panic. You needed to keep a cool head now, needed to find out what was happening and how to get out of this mess. This had to be some kind of mistake, or maybe another prank like back then when some kids had locked you into a basement of an abandoned house, leaving you there for the night, alone and terrified until you finally found a way out.  
You strained against the ties around your waist, noticing the bite of metal into your skin. So no ropes, then, but handcuffs. Fuck. You might have been able to wriggle out of ropes, but not out of cuffs. You would only chafe your wrists raw. You still managed to sit up somehow, but the throbbing in your head kept you from getting up on your feet. You took some deep breaths and started scanning your surroundings. Walls, looked like brick, not concrete or drywall. It was dark and cold, so probably you were in a basement. Again. The room was empty and small, maybe an unused store room. You wanted to think but the pain in your head was still distracting you and your nose was itching but you couldn’t scratch and there was this dull feeling of something – you couldn’t even put your finger on it. God, how did you end up in this mess?!  
You could feel the panic rising, the tears and the sobs threatening to spill, but you held them back. There was a small window high up the wall, too small for you to fit through even if your hands weren’t cuffed behind your back. At least it provided a bit of light, so it wasn’t night yet. You crawled over to a wall, somehow managed to hoist yourself up with the support if it in your back. Slowly you stumbled through the room towards the only door. You leaned your shoulder against it and tried to push it open. There was no visible lock or doorknob but it didn’t budge so you figured there would be a latch or something on the outside.  
You could still hear faint voices, it sounded as if people were arguing but you couldn’t tell how many people. Except for that it was eerily quiet. And suddenly it struck you: it had been quiet all day! Not only that hardly any costumers had been in the store, there were no cars driving by and no people out on the streets. You had been too occupied to notice earlier, but the town had been almost empty. Where was everyone?  
Footsteps suddenly echoed outside of your little dungeon, sending your heart and mind into overdrive. Especially when you heard someone fumbling with a key at the very door you were staring at. Would you be able to ambush whoever came inside? Use the surprise effect and manage to escape? But as long as you didn’t know where you were and who was behind that door you could get yourself into serious trouble…  
Your hesitation cost you this chance, but maybe it was for the best. The door was opened and a man stepped inside – the sheriff of all people. No reason to feel relieved, though. He was big, with broad shoulders and even though he was in his mid 40’s he was still very fit and could end an argument within seconds – on the hard way, of course.  
“You’re awake.” He didn’t sound surprised, he didn’t even sound interested at all. “Saves me the trouble of dragging you out of here. C’mon.” He motioned towards the door and you simply obeyed. Well, with him here it at least explained the handcuffs. Not that this mattered anyway.  
“What – what’s going on?”you managed to ask while he grabbed your arm and pushed you through the door forcefully.  
”You’ll see soon enough.” Sheriff Posner had never been a man of many words, but that didn’t mean you had never gotten an earful from him. But there had been times when you thought that he and your mom maybe… well, that’s been long ago.  
He led you through some hallways, doors every now and then your only orientation. You still had no idea where you were and where you were going, but asking the sheriff wouldn’t help you. He dragged you to an open space, like a hall in the basement, and the size of that room finally made you realize where you were. Under the church. There was no other building big enough to have a basement that would fit such a hall. You could see a small crowd of people, maybe 20, 30. A group of girls around your age was standing in line, all familiar faces, former friends and girls who gave you a hard time for your whole life. And of course Stella.  
And suddenly all fell into place. This was it. It was the day for the chosen one to conceive the savior. But – what were you doing here? This was definitely not your scene after all. Without hesitation the sheriff pushed you into line with the other girls, ignoring the murmured complains and puzzled and irritated looks.  
Glancing around the room you saw some more familiar faces. Well, you knew everyone in this town, so that wasn’t a surprise. You craned your neck, trying to spot the preacher – he wouldn’t want to miss this for sure. Stella shot you some dirty looks but that wasn’t new. At least the other girls weren’t handcuffed. Maybe one of them would help you after all…  
Your train of thought was interrupted when a familiar feeling spread in your stomach. There it was, the dread, the uneasiness. As if on cue a door opened and the feeling intensified. A voice you knew too well echoed through the hall.  
“My brothers and sisters, the time has finally come. After all these years of waiting, after all the sacrifices we made, tonight we will see the beginning of a new era!”  
Mallory walked through the door, the murmuring of the crowd grew louder. “Where is the preacher?” This question wandered from mouth to mouth, low at first but with growing volume.  
“Please, calm down. My husband is needed elsewhere, so I will be leading the ceremony today. Don’t worry, everything goes according to plan.” She smiled sweetly, looking just like her daughter. Innocent and pure, but with an underlying threat that made your skin crawl. Whenever her gaze washed over you the feeling of foreboding intensified. It was the same you felt when Sam looked at you.  
Sam. Oh shit! It had all been a ruse, a set up! He had sent you to the car so someone else could come and get you! ‘You will be mine or you will die.’ His words still echoed in your mind. He was behind all this? But he barely knew you! What the hell was happening here?!  
“For years we have been waiting for the sign, for the messenger of our king, and finally he arrived! Bring our special guest in!” Mallory called out to the sheriff who nodded and walked through the door, followed by a few other men.  
You briefly considered asking if the other girls had been having the same strange dreams like you did the last few days, but before you could even sort out your thoughts the sheriff came back. You didn’t have to look to know who the man next to him was. Sam.  
But much to your surprise you saw that Sam was also handcuffed. And behind him Dean stumbled through the door, hands behind the back, face bruised. You gasped and he looked up, shot you a tired grin and a wink before someone dragged him into a corner and pushed him hard on the floor.  
Sam was lead towards Mallory who smiled at him.  
“So nice of you to join us. This will be a feast for you, I’m sure. We just have to find out which one it is.”  
Mallory made a gesture towards the girls, leaving you even more confused than ever before. Sam was the messenger of God? But what were you doing here? You were the demon’s child, the devil’s whore! You definitely didn’t qualify as the mother of the savior.  
Sam seemed just as puzzled as you were, his brow furrowed, his gaze flitting around the room. You were in some deep shit and you knew it when he looked at you, eyes growing wider, mirroring the terror you just felt.  
Even the other girls got uneasy, they murmured and fidgeted under Mallory’s gaze. Especially Stella. Oh, someone definitely felt guilty for something but this was not the time to think about the whispered rumors about Stella and if they could be true after all.  
This was the time to think about the meaning of Mallory’s next words.  
“Now, let us choose a bride for the boyking.”  
Your blood froze in your veins when his eyes found yours again. And the crowd cheered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Showdown in the next chapter!


	7. Day 7 - part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The plan and some truths get revealed. Are you ready to face the boyking?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, I really thought I could keep it short but the story keeps getting in my way. So obviously this is not the last chapter, I think there will be 2 more. Thanks for reading!

Maybe “cheered” was the wrong word, but it definitely looked like it the first split second. But you soon noticed that something strange was happening. Some people threw their heads back and suddenly black smoke streamed out of their mouths. The girls next to you started to scream ad tried to run away, this was far from the stories about angels and God and some bright ray of light they had been told all their lives.   
But you were frozen to the spot, watched the events unfold in silent horror. You knew this smoke, you had seen it before, in one of your dreams. But if this was happening, really happening, what about the other things in your dreams? Your eyes flitted back to Sam.   
He was muttering something, but you couldn’t hear him, only see his lips moving. The girl next to you started screaming when some of the black smoke directly headed for her, as if it had an own will. You were scanning the room, saw how Dean struggled to get up, how some of the people in the crowd had collapsed – those the black smoke had come from. It was like watching a film in slow motion, too many things happened at once and you felt oddly uninvolved. Mallory’s eyes flashed but she turned away from you, faced Sam and clamped her hand over his mouth. Obviously they were not working together. It was a short lived relief because that was the moment the black smoke came for you.  
It forced itself into your mouth, down your throat, filled your lungs, probed and poked at your insides – only to be choked out by you with your next breath of air. It shortly lingered in front of you before it finally moved away.   
Mallory’s head jerked around, she stared at you before a cruel grin appeared on her face. With one hand still covering Sam’s mouth – and nose, as you noticed when Sam struggled harder – she just watched you. How could she hold down a huge guy like Sam as if it was nothing? Before you could even think about that, even think about running Sheriff Posner grabbed your arm and yanked you towards Mallory. She just took her hand from Sam’s face, let him limply fall to the ground. His head hit the ground with a dull thud and you were suddenly afraid that she had killed him.   
“Don’t worry, my little dove, he’s fine. Just passed out a bit. We will need him later, but for now he can rest.”  
You heard Dean yelling somewhere at the other side of the room – “Sammy! Sam!” – but you didn’t look. You were scared, afraid to take your eyes of Mallory, afraid of what she might do to you when you weren’t paying attention.   
“Now let’s have a look at you.” Her eyes sparkled, as if she was watching a very interesting new species under a microscope. And it felt exactly like that for you. She grabbed your arm, squeezed hard enough to leave bruises for sure, and looked at the sheriff.  
“Bring me Stella.” Her voice sounded casual but there was something terrifying in it, something that made your stomach churn. The sheriff came back with Stella in tow, but she moved differently. You could tell, after knowing her for so long you were sure something was wrong with her.  
“You had no troubles, right?” Mallory tilted her head a bit and Stella shrugged.   
“None at all.” She smiled sweetly at you, the usual ‘I’m the golden child and you are shit’ smile you hated so much. But then she blinked and her eyes turned black, making you scream in terror. Mallory held you firmly in place, she smirked at you.   
“Surprised, dove? Well, I am, too. You are only here for – let’s call it ‘entertainment’. I haven’t expected you to be the one.”   
She motioned towards Stella who raised her head and opened her mouth, just to let the same black smoke escape again that had – possessed? Yeah, that sounded about right – that had possessed her before. When she looked at you again this time, teary eyed, almost panicking, she was the old Stella again. Well, the old Stella minus the unlimited confidence. She was just as confused as you were, looking between you and her mother back and forth.  
“M-mom?” she almost whined. For a moment you felt sorry for her, but the dread that filled you when Mallory looked at her daughter drowned out every other emotion.  
“So, you have been a failure. I’m so disappointed in you, young lady! All those years and now I have to find out you slept around? Do you know what you have done?!” You could instantly tell that Mallory was mocking Stella, that this wasn’t her real anger, these were not her real emotions. She was toying with Stella, and it was cruel.  
“I’m so sorry, mom, so sorry! It – it was only one time and – and Tyler, he – he…” Stella was crying, reaching out for her mother who shot you a triumphant smile and turned towards Stella to take her into her arms.  
“Shh, it’s okay.” You wanted to believe that it really was okay, but you already knew it wasn’t.   
“You’re breaking my heart, you know that?” Mallory whispered towards Stella, but her eyes were on you. “And now I’m breaking your neck in return.”   
You saw Mallory’s eyes flash black, saw how she grabbed Stella’s head and jerked it around, you heard the sound of bones breaking, a faint gasp from Stella before she fell to the floor like a ragdoll. You couldn’t breathe. You couldn’t think, couldn’t move, only the racing of your heartbeat and the trembling of your whole body were signs that you hadn’t turned into a marble statue.   
“Annoying brat,” Mallory muttered and turned back to face you. “It’s funny that you humans always think ‘purity’ is a state of the body. It isn’t. It’s a state of the mind. You can whore around as much as you want, that doesn’t taint your soul.” She sighed as if some hard labor was lying in front of her, an unpleasant task she’d rather avoid.   
“And here I thought she was the one. Stupid memories of this meat suit, made me think it would be easier. Anyway, we have what we were looking for.” She stared at Sam who was still passed out on the floor. “The question is, how can we make you do what we want now? With Stella it would have been easy, she would have done anything as long as she was the chosen one. But you?” She tapped her index finger against her chin a few times. Her gaze wandered around the room until she saw Dean who was on his feet again, trying to stay in the shadows. A wide smile bloomed on her face.   
“Ah, I know! Bring him here.” She looked at the sheriff who instantly marched over and grabbed Dean, dragged him over to you and Mallory.   
“Hey, kid,” he rasped, his voice strained and hoarse.   
“Hey,” you whispered back, yelping a bit when Mallory’s grip got even tighter.  
“Dean Winchester. I still can’t believe how lucky I am. Looking for a special girl and getting the boyking and his cursed brother served on a silver platter. I would love to kill you myself right here and now, but I know that someone would be very mad at me for that. And I don’t like to make enemies so high up in the ranks.”   
You didn’t understand anything, looked at Dean, hoping he would explain things to you. But of course this wasn’t the time for that and he only shook his head lightly.   
“Ah, I knew you were just the bitch of someone. Lemme guess? Another one of yellow eyes followers. Or maybe your mistress is Lilith? Doesn’t matter to me, I will kill you either way.” He was smiling but you could hear how much he struggled to stay calm, his eyes flitted back and forth between you, Sam and Mallory.   
Mallory sneered. “You think you can taunt me? I’m the one in charge here and you are just hellhound food. I might have to wait but that doesn’t mean that I can’t make your remaining time hell. So you can get used to it already.” She nodded her head once, motioned towards the wall and the sheriff flung Dean against it, knocked the wind out of him and made him groan in pain.   
Holy shit… no matter what you had gotten yourself into, this was serious. And you were scared out of your mind.   
“Back to you, dove. Sorry for all the interruptions, it’s hard to keep a demon army in check and deal with the stupidity and hubris of hunters at the same time.” She sighed again.  
“Now, what I want from you is easy. Even you can do that. See that man down there?” She pointed at Sam with the tip of her shoe. “He’s special and so are you. Now, when two special people meet, they can make a very, very special child and that’s what you will be doing, understood?”   
Her tone and the increasing pressure on your arm made clear that there was no room for discussion.   
‘You will be mine or you will die.’   
“No…” you breathed, more to yourself than to Mallory. All the mixed emotions, all the fear, the terror, the physical disgust at the mere thought of Sam actually touching you like that made your knees buckle.   
“That wasn’t an offer,” Mallory hissed. “It’s an order. We can do that the nice way – well, as nice as possible after we have awakened him – or we do that the hard way. I don’t mind, we only have to keep you alive long enough for the baby to be born.” She yanked you around so you could see Dean pinned against the wall.  
“Want to watch while we torture him? I can tell you, I’m pretty creative. Or would you rather watch while we kill every single human in this town? Everyone you know so well? Or we could do both… yeah. Every hour you’re refusing us we kill one of the townspeople and I break one of Dean’s bones. Sounds good to me.”  
You were sobbing, crying, shaking. What should you do? What could you do? There was nothing, you could do nothing at all.   
“Go and get a room ready for them. Let’s give them some privacy. Although I don’t think the boyking will care once we let him have a taste of her blood.” Mallory’s dark smile was sending shivers through your body.  
“Please… auntie… please don’t do this,” you begged weakly, knowing it wouldn’t change anything.  
“Oh, dove, you should know by now that I’m not your aunt. I only ride her body.” She smiled sweetly at you and shrugged. “I have access to her memories and I can assure you, she holds no affection for you. I mean –“ she kicked Stella’s body that still lay next to your feet, “I killed her own daughter and I can actually feel her raging inside, clawing at the edges of her consciousness to regain the control – but I can shut her up, just like that.” She snapped her fingers, the sound echoing through the hall.  
“And now I expect you to lie on your back and open your legs for the boyking, or I swear I will find some very gruesome ways to make you. The easiest would be to simply tie you up, but that would be boring.” She grabbed your hair and jerked your head back. “And I don’t like to be bored.” She pointedly looked towards Dean and Sheriff Posner punched him in the stomach without hesitation, making Dean grunt and gulp for air.   
“Honeymoon suite is ready, my little dove. So, what should it be?” 

‘Honeymoon suite’ turned out to be another dusty and empty room, at least with some blankets on the floor. They threw you in there, hands still behind your back so you had no chance to brace yourself against the impact on the ground. Once the door was locked behind you there was only the dim light and silence. You curled up into a small ball, still trembling in shock what you had just witnessed.   
“Sweetheart? You there?”  
The faint voice came from your right, though the wall. Obviously a drywall.   
“Dean?” you choked out between sobs.  
“Yeah, I’m here. You okay?” He coughed and you knew he wasn’t in the position to worry about you, but still he did.  
“More or less. How about you?” Under quite some effort you managed to crawls over to the wall and lean against it, afraid to be too loud, afraid someone would come and check on you. Well, you knew they would come eventually.  
“Been better, but I’ll live.” He chuckled and coughed some more, you heard him wheezing.   
“What – what is going on? I – I don’t understand…” You had calmed down a bit, at least enough to get out halfway coherent sentences.   
“I’m not completely sure yet, but it seems as if they want you to become my sister-in-law… which would be great if it wasn’t so sick and twisted.” You could hear him moving, grunting some more before there was a thud against the wall – his head?   
“Sorry, kid, I didn’t expect things to get out of hand like this.”   
You rested your head against the wall and sighed.  
“Not your fault. People around here were always crazy, but this?” You chuckled dryly.   
“You’re taking it better than I’ve expected. You know what those were? Out there?”  
You exhaled deeply. “Demons. That’s what she said, right? Demons…”   
“Yeah. Listen, kid, there are some ways to get rid of them, and some ways to make sure they can’t possess you. I think your birthmark comes in handy here, but you need to be prepared. They are strong, stronger than anyone else, even the scrawny looking ones. Holy water would help, salt is a good idea.”  
Salt. Well, that explained at least that one thing.   
“I don’t have either. I mean, I’m not even baptized, so no holy water here. And I’m not carrying salt with me all the time.” It was surreal that you were making jokes as if this wasn’t the end of the world, at least for you. “So what else?”   
“Sammy knows some exorcisms, but I haven’t gotten around learning them yet.”   
“Great, just great.” You rolled your shoulders again, the strain on your tied arms was painful, just like the way the cuffs cut into your wrists.  
“You know, I have dreamed this whole shit,” you quietly confessed. “The nightmares lately. It was always Sam and he did – he did – things to me…” You swallowed, unable to actually tell him.  
“He won’t do anything, don’t worry. He’s not gonna hurt you.” There was a short pause before you heard Dean again.   
“When they bring Sammy in, check his eyes. If they are normal, he might still himself. If they are black –“   
He didn’t even managed to end this sentence but you already knew that you were in some deep trouble if Sam’s eyes were black. You were in deep trouble anyway because the door was slammed open and Mallory came in, Sam behind her.   
“Oh fuck…” you muttered, the cold expression on Sam’s face the same you saw in your dreams so often.  
“Exactly that’s why you’re here, dove. Now be a good girl and come over,” Mallory – or whatever was currently using her as a huge finger puppet – grabbed your hair and yanked you up, making you cry out at the sudden pain. You could see Sam’s expression wavering for a split second but got distracted by Mallory slicing your arm with a knife. You hissed at the additional pain but flinched when she ripped your shirt off your body, leaving you in your bra and jeans shorts.   
She pushed you around until you were standing in front of Sam, turned so that your bleeding arm was directly under his nose.   
“Here you are, Your Highness.” Mallory’s voice was dripping with sarcasm, the way she treated Sam showed no respect. Whatever he was, he wasn’t her king. Or boyking, whatever that meant. You were trembling, blood dripping down your arm, but Sam’s lips curled into a cruel smirk. He grabbed your shoulder and pulled you towards him, his other hand shooting out towards Mallory. He clutched her throat and stared at her.  
“You will never – never – touch my bride again. Understood?” The low growl of his voice sent goosebumps all over your body, it made your skin crawl and your legs weak.   
For a moment they only stared at each other until Mallory cast her eyes down.   
“Good. Now go and leave us alone. And don’t you dare interrupt us.” He shoved her away, not caring that she bumped into a wall.   
You were done for. This was it, your end. Where his hand touched you your skin felt as if you had rubbed stinging nettle all over it. You looked up into his face and noticed some reddish smears in the corners of his mouth. Every instinct in you screamed for you to get away, but with your hands bound and Mallory closing the door behind her there was no escape for you.


	8. Day 7 - part 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trapped with the boyking - will you make it out of that room alive?

Sam waited, let the silence between you become heavy as lead. He stared at the bleeding cut on your arm and frowned, a disgusted expression flashing over his face before the already familiar concern took its place.   
“Are you okay?” He whispered and you needed a moment to understand what just happened.   
“Y-yes, I think so…”   
He sighed in relief. “It’s okay, I have a plan. First of all we have to find Dean.”  
You were still looking at him. “Uhm, Sam? Would you mind letting me go?”  
“Oh, sure, sorry.” Immediately he lifted his hand off your shoulder and shot you an apologetic look. You almost expected to see his handprint on your skin but there was nothing, not even a flush.   
“Dean’s next door, right behind this wall,” you whispered and Sam nodded.  
“Okay, we have to distract the guards outside. I’m sure there are some. Can you – uhm, can you scream a bit? And maybe stomp or whatever to make it sound that I’m – uh, handling you rather roughly?”   
He was blushing a bit and that really surprised you. You nodded slowly, turned away a bit before you began with an embarrassing symphony of sobs and screams. You couldn’t even face him but you heard how he searched the wall for a weak spot. On the other side you could hear Dean rage.   
“Kid? Sam? Shit! Stop it!”  
“No! Get – get away from me! No! Let me go!” Since your adrenaline was still high it was rather easy to slip into this role, you even started moving around a bit, making it sound as if you were trying to escape him. Sam’s heard jerked around when you started with your fakes sobbing and crying, but when he saw that you nodded towards him he kept knocking lightly against the wall. He motioned for you to be even louder and you screamed at the top of your lungs while he took a deep breath and kicked against the wall. You cried out for real, that had taken you by surprise. Even more when you saw that he actually managed to kick a hole into the wall. He quickly widened the gap until you could see Dean’s head, staring at you while you stood in the middle of the room, still pretending to fight against Sam. It took some more time until the hole was big enough for Sam to crawl to the other side. You couldn’t really see what happened, only heard them whisper, Sam grunted once before he and Dean crawled back into your room. You noticed the cuffs at Dean’s wrists, but the chain that once connected them was broken. Wow.  
Dean motioned for you to calm down and you did, some softer sobs and whimpers before you were finally quiet.   
“You okay?” He whispered and scanned your face, relief in his expression when you nodded. You were still in your bra, hands behind the back, but yeah, you were okay. Mostly.   
“Sam!” Dean whisper/yelled and Sam instantly moved behind you, put his hands on your cuffs and – he didn’t even try to rip them apart. Not that you had expected that, those were metal handcuffs after all, they weren’t meant to simply be torn apart. And then you felt it. The metal got hot, scorching hot, burning your wrists so you screamed in pain for real this time, yanking your wrists from his grip and stumbling forwards, almost falling before Dean steadied you.   
“What the-?!” you hissed, turning around to see Sam’s shocked face.   
“What happened?” Dean seemed confused, too.  
You were panting, wriggled out of Dean’s arms and glared at both of them.   
“Fuck, that wasn’t funny! What have you got there, a pocket blowtorch?!”   
He only raised his hands, his empty hands, and shrugged. “I swear it worked with Dean’s.”   
You took a deep breath. “Whatever. Do you have plan? Something that gets us out of here?”   
They shared a glance, a tiny nod. You rolled your eyes.   
“Can you TELL me? Because I don’t speak ‘mysterious brothers sign language’.” God, you were pissed. And exhausted. And scared. Half naked with a bleeding arm. You had no patience for their shit.  
“Sorry,” Dean muttered and Sam nodded. “Okay, we either need holy water or salt.”   
“We got neither,” you reminded him. He nodded.  
“Sure, I know that. But we are in some kind of church, holy water shouldn’t be a problem.”   
You snickered dryly. “Oh, it is a problem. We are in a church crowded with some demonic – things. You really think they just conveniently place holy water somewhere? And you can’t just ‘make’ holy water, the priest has to bless it and I have the feeling that the preacher is involved in all this shit…” You talked faster and faster until you stopped, noticing you had rambled.   
“Kid, I think the preacher isn’t really involved,” Dean slowly said. Another shared glance with his brother and he took a deep breath. “We – we found his body this morning. Just before that Mallory chick went all psycho and handcuffed us.”   
That came unexpected.   
“He – he was my uncle,” you muttered. “The brother of my mom…” You threw your head back a bit and took a deep breath. “Not that it changes anything. He always treated me like – like crap.”  
You quickly shook your head.  
“Okay, back to the plan. Can this whole ‘boyking’ stuff help us somehow?” You looked at Sam who made a conflicted face.  
“I really don’t know. They seem to think that you and me – that we should have a child. They made me – drink something… and obviously they think I’m on their side now.”  
“That Mallory is one crazy chick, that’s for sure,” Dean muttered and you nodded.   
“She seems to think we were meant to be or something,” you said to Sam. “That something in my blood will – I don’t know, that’s just too crazy.” You took another deep breath. “That something in my blood will make you go wild.” You nodded towards the cut on your arm. The bleeding had already stopped and it didn’t hurt anymore. You always healed rather quickly.   
“Yeah, I get that. But sorry, you’re blood… it’s repulsive somehow.”   
You huffed and rolled your eyes. “For me it’s not a turn on either. But do you think it can help us?”   
“At least they took off my handcuffs. So yeah, it might help us. Okay, here’s the plan. We cover up the hole, Dean, you go back into your room first. I leave you behind for now and try to get my hands on something that can help us.”  
You wrecked your brain until suddenly an idea popped up. There was a faint memory of someone talking about… about… church bells!  
“The bells! Sam, ring the bells!” The urgency in your voice got their attention.   
“What about the bells?” Dean seemed not convinced. “I never heard of bells helping against those black eyed bastards.”  
“They are special. I – actually I don’t remember that well, but I think they are blessed or something. We are supposed to ring the bells for the Last Battle, because their sound will drive the evil and impure creatures away.” Now it definitely proved as disadvantage that you had never been part of the church. You just didn’t have all the info you needed.  
“More like a local myth?” Sam asked and Dean shrugged.   
“I don’t know. All I know is that my mom called them ‘angel bells’ and that’s good enough for me. Try it at least. If it doesn’t work –“ you shrugged. Since no one had a better plan it was worth a shot.   
Sam nodded. “I try to find them.” He turned towards the door but hesitated. “Maybe you should learn the exorcism. But that only drives the demon out of their host, it doesn’t kill them. So it will only work when there’s no other host near, okay?”  
“Sam, it’s fine, she is warded. Anti possession.” Dean pointed towards your ribcage, at your birthmark. “Expelling them should be enough for now.”  
Sam’s eyes got wide but he quickly nodded.  
“Excellent. Okay, you think you can remember this?” He started speaking in Latin and you furrowed your brow.   
“Wow, that’s – does that really work?”   
“Yeah, of course. I use it for a while now. Why?” He seemed confused.  
“Because your pronunciation sucks. It’s a miracle the demons even get what you want from them.” Oh yes, you were really pissed. At their dumbfounded stares you simply shrugged.  
“What? Five years Latin in school. And I recognize the Rituale Romanum when I hear it, don’t worry.”   
Dean chuckled and even Sam flashed you a smile.  
“Okay, in that case, on you marks. Don’t try anything stupid.” Sam pointedly looked at Dean who grumbled a “fine” under his breath and crawled back through the whole. You sat in front of it, with the help of Sam who covered you with a blanket.   
“Pretend to be asleep,” he whispered before he got up again and disheveled his clothes and hair. After he pounded at the door it was opened and someone peeked inside, but you couldn’t recognize who it was between half closed eyes.   
When the door slammed close again you opened your eyes carefully.   
“Hey kid, how are you holding up?” Dean’s muffled voice came through the hole in the wall.   
“I’m keeping it together – barely,” you admitted. “I mean, I knew this town was crazy, but this? Never would have guessed it was that bad.” You sighed.  
“So, that preacher and his wife, they are your family?” Dean sounded as if he wasn’t sure if it was okay to ask.  
“Yeah, they were. I mean, they cast my mom out after she got pregnant, but before that? I heard they were pretty close. My mom and her brother at least.” You listened to sounds from the hallway but everything seemed quiet.   
“So, if you get possessed by a demon, does that kill you? Or can you survive a possession?”  
Dean shifted and you could hear him taking a deep breath.  
“Well, normally you can survive it. As long as he treats your body kindly. Some of them though… let’s say the body works as long as the demon rides it, but afterwards every little injury, every scratch it got while it was possessed will take its toll.”   
So it was possible that Mallory survived this whole ordeal. But to find what? Her husband and daughter dead, her own hands bloodied with the deeds the demon had done?   
“How come you know so much about this stuff?”   
“Family business. That’s what we do. The insurance crap was just for cover.” That didn’t surprise you at all. But since he was in sharing mood you kept asking.  
“What about this ‘boyking’ talk? What does that mean?” You were really curious about that, after all it seemed to be the reason you were in this mess.   
“That – that’s complicated,” he tried to evade the question.  
“Yeah, I bet it is. Break it down for me, will you?”   
He hesitated for a moment. “You know, that’s Sammy’s story, I’m not sure… oh well. So when Sam was a baby our mom died in a fire.”  
You nodded, not realizing how stupid that was since he couldn’t see you. “Yeah, you mentioned that before.”  
“Turned out a demon did it. He – did something to Sam and when my mom wanted to check on him the demon – he burned her. Our dad – he loved her very much… he swore to find the demon and kill him. Wasn’t that simple, but in the end… we lost our dad, too. But got the demon killed. He had tried to create an army of kids like Sam. They all had some special powers. You better ask him about that part. Anyway, one of them should become the ‘boyking’, like, their evil leader.”  
You had listened intently but couldn’t believe what he told you.  
“And that’s Sam? The evil leader is Sam?!” Sam with the kind smile, polite and smart. Sam who made your skin crawl and your stomach churn. Yeah, yeah, you could see that.   
“My handcuffs earlier? I’m sure he did that with his powers,” Dean added. “I’m not sure why it didn’t work with yours.”   
You remembered the intense pain and how it had instantly subsided when the contact between you broke.   
“Hm, maybe because you are related? I mean, you have this strange silent communication thing going on, I guess you’re pretty much in sync.” Thinking about stuff like that was better than thinking about the situation you were in after all. “You think he’s okay?”  
“Sure he is. He’s a big boy after all,” Dean tried to reassure you.  
“Yeah, I’ve noticed…” You blushed when you thought back to your dreams, glad that Dean couldn’t see you. Footsteps in the hallway interrupted your conversation and you instantly stiffed, that sick feeling in your stomach coming back in full force.   
The door was ripped open and Mallory rushed inside, yanked you up by your hair again. She was furious, you could feel her anger almost physically.   
“He hasn’t even touched you,” she hissed and flung you against the wall. The impact knocked the winds out of you, leaving you stunned for a second. The strain on your shoulders was almost unbearable but she jerked you forwards again, her fingers digging into the cut on your arm, making you wince. You only hoped that Dean would stay put and not try anything stupid.   
“You think I wouldn’t notice? I can smell it… he doesn’t smell like you and you – you definitely don’t smell as if you’re carrying demon blood in you. Or seed.”   
You whimpered lowly when she grabbed you even tighter.  
“I have no idea what you are planning, but I don’t think you need to be complete for having a baby. I bet you could spare a finger or two. Maybe even an arm. Sure, you would look really ugly, but I don’t think he will mind.”  
You took a few deep breaths, calculating your chances to headbutt her – would that even work? Did demons feel pain? The last thing you wanted was to piss her off even more. But when she started to apply even more pressure you started to struggle, fought her grip, strained against the handcuffs – until they broke. The sudden freedom in your movement caused you to stumble but Mallory’s hand on your arm kept you in place.  
The surprise in her face was at least a small satisfaction, but only short lived. You knew there was no time to rattle off the whole Rituale Romanum, especially since Mallory pressed you against the wall, so you decided to try something else. Something shorter. You quickly started mumbling the “Vade retro satanas”, almost able to finish it before she covered your mouth, right before the last verse. She was seething now, her eyes black as coal.   
“You stupid bitch,” she hissed, her hand making it difficult for you to breathe. “You think you can get rid of me that easily?”   
She sneered at you, adding more pressure on your mouth before she also covered your nose. Okay, maybe this was the time for Dean to do something stupid after all. Your arms were tired and heavy after having been tied behind your back all the time but you managed to grab Mallory’s shoulders and push, with all your might. After a short struggle you gathered all your strength and shoved her roughly – and she stumbled backwards. You were just as surprised as she was, even too surprised to finish the exorcism. Well, you weren’t sure if it would help to begin with, but at least it had enraged Mallory even further so you figured she didn’t like it.   
Unfortunately she was still furious. And quick as lightening. She had grabbed your arm, twisted it until you felt something snap. You screamed, the pain almost made you pass out, darkness creeping in your vision from the edges. You kicked and flailed, only spurring her further on.  
“Filthy human! You think you can hurt ME?!”   
You sagged down when she punched you in your stomach, the urge to throw up overwhelming you, but she already flung you around again. You were more than angry, hurt, scared – you had enough. You definitely had enough.  
In a desperate attempt you grabbed her ankle and pulled, made her lose balance and fall. You scrambled up again, just in time to almost run into Dean who jumped at Mallory with a short wooden stick in his hands, driving it into her shoulder. She screamed and flailed, but couldn’t seem to get up. Tears streamed down your cheeks from pain and exhaustion, you trembled and panted.   
“Sorry, kid, had to figure out how to deal with her… how are you?” Dean was at your side the next second, checking you for injuries. You pressed your left arm close to your body, pain shouting through you whenever you moved it.   
“What – what have you done to her?”   
He quickly grabbed the discarded remnants of your shirt and ripped it in stripes, creating a makeshift sling for your arm.  
“Palo Santo. Holy wood. Hurts them just as much as holy water. Stuns them for a while.” He helped you up, both of you looking down at Mallory who stared with wide open, black eyes at you.   
“Will she – will she die?” You were unable to form a whole sentence without stuttering somewhere in the middle.  
“Not from the stake.”  
He didn’t explain further and you didn’t ask.   
“How long will she stay like this?” You motioned towards Mallory who still silently stared at you.  
“No idea. Hopefully long enough so we can find a way to gank her.”  
Your head snapped around to face Dean. “The demon or Mallory?” You still had so many questions, you weren’t sure if you were ready to lose your only possible source of information.   
He shrugged. “Probably both. Sorry, kid, but you have no idea what the demon did with her so far. She might already be dead the moment the demon gets out of her.”   
You nodded slowly. “Okay, I get it. What now?”  
“Let’s find some iron. If we manage to trap her in a circle of iron, she at least won’t be able to escape.”   
You didn’t ask where you should find iron, you didn’t ask where he had gotten the stake, it didn’t matter anyway. Your room was empty except for the blankets and the search for iron proved to be in vain. But when you peeked through the hole in the wall into the room next door you noticed some crates.   
“Hey, there’s stuff in there,” you pointed out and Dean nodded.   
“Yeah, but no iron. At least there was some Palo Santo in there. Old relic shrine or something.”   
Your head hurt, your arm hurt, your heart hurt the most. You were so damned tired, all you wanted was to cry yourself to sleep.   
“You think there are guards outside?” you asked, your voice low.  
“Not sure. I haven’t heard anything, but poking my head out didn’t seem very smart.”   
You crept towards the door and placed your hand on it. “The door furniture is iron. But I guess we can’t just rip it off, huh?”   
You sighed, frustrated and irritated. Helpless. How long did Sam need to find that stupid bells?   
“You think she can speak like this?” Your gaze flitted back towards Mallory.  
“Dunno. Maybe. And demons lie anyway. All the time. She won’t answer any questions and if she would it would only be to hurt you.”   
Running his hands over his face he sighed. “Listen, this isn’t an exact science. We pick up a lot of things while we go.” He didn’t seem very happy about that either.   
“So no ghostbuster academy?” Your feeble attempt of joking earned you at least a tired smile.   
“No, I fear not. That thing with the bells – if that works it would be something new I learned today.”   
“Well, we clink glasses to banish evil spirits, so why shouldn’t church bells do the same?” His eyebrows shot up, he seemed to be surprised.   
“What? I’m not a religious and not some ghost hunting, mysterious stranger, but I know stuff. Superstition, religious stuff – you think you can grow up in a city like this without picking up a thing or two?”  
He raised his hands in mock defense.  
“I haven’t said a word.” He winked at you and some of the tension inside of you slipped away. You walked towards Mallory and bit your lip.   
“If you don’t know how long that will bind her, we better try that exorcism. I can’t go another round with her.”   
Dean had obviously given up on finding iron or salt – honestly, why should that stuff just lie around somewhere? – and joined you.  
“You remember the whole thing?”  
You shot him a glance. “Yeah, but let’s try a shorter one. Before she seemed not very pleased about that other one.”  
He shrugged, indicated for you to go on and you took a deep breath, said a mental goodbye to the answers to all the questions in your mind and started the recitation.  
“Crux sacra sit mihi lux. Non draco sit mihi dux.”  
Mallory’s eyes widened even more, they switched between black and her actual eye color back and forth.   
“Vade retro satana. Numquam suade mihi vana.”   
She started struggling, fought against the hold of the stake in her shoulder. You took another shuddering breath.  
“Sunt mala quae libas. Ipse venena bibas.”   
With a wordless cry her mouth opened, black smoke poured out of her shaking body. It lingered a moment before it dashed off, vanished through a small crack in the wall.   
“Holy shit,” Dean muttered. “I better memorize that one.”  
You blinked a few times before you thought about checking on Mallory. She was alive – barely. Her breathing was ragged and there was blood trickling from the corner of her mouth and her ears.   
You dropped down next to her, afraid to touch her, to hurt her.   
“Auntie…” you whispered and she drew in a sharp breath, her eyes focusing on you.   
“I always… knew that… you were cursed…”   
Your bottom lip trembled, somehow you had hoped for at least some kind words.   
“Why did… Stella have to… die and you… are alive…? Such a… shame…”   
You wanted to make her stop talking, wanted to prevent her from saying even uglier things, but you couldn’t. You felt like that little girl back then, cowering under the glare of the scary adults.  
“Your uncle… should have killed you… like he killed your…”  
Your eyes went wide. What? What did she just say?   
“Kid? Kid, come on, don’t listen to her.” Dean’s voice was so close that you almost jumped. Almost. You couldn’t tear your gaze away from Mallory, your aunt, the wife of your uncle. With a perverted fascination you watched her struggle, watched how she clung to life desperately.   
“She was… a disgrace… and so are…”   
You leaned in close to her, your hand brushing some strands of hair from her forehead.  
“I know,” you breathed, almost inaudible. “But I am alive. And you are dying. I forgive you.”   
She gasped as I you had given her the kiss of death. And somehow you did. She tensed briefly before she went limp, a quiet death, but not peaceful.   
You felt Dean’s hand on your good shoulder.   
“Sweetheart? You okay?”   
With a slow nod you got up, still shaking, still wanting to cry, still holding on.   
“How – how long do you think we have to –“   
Your question was cut short by the low sound of bells ringing. It was only one at first before another, slightly higher pitched one joined in. And another one. Three bells, not really ringing harmonically, the timing was off, but it was the sweetest sound you ever heard. And it was followed by a new kind of restlessness. What if it didn’t work? What if the demons only got angrier? What if Sam never made it back?   
Breathing suddenly got harder and harder, your chest was tight, your knees trembling. The adrenaline that kept you going for so long was gone, left you empty and numb. You were anxiously waiting but had no idea for what. Until you heard the footsteps. Someone running.   
Dean froze and so did you, but it was only Sam who rushed in, breathless and instantly scanning the room.   
“We better get outta here now,” he gasped and Dean ushered you out of the door, Sam in the front, Dean securing the back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The "Vade retro satana"   
>  Crux sacra sit mihi lux / Non draco sit mihi dux  
>  Vade retro satana / Numquam suade mihi vana  
>  Sunt mala quae libas / Ipse venena bibas 
> 
> "Let the Holy Cross be my light / Let not the dragon be my guide  
>  Step back Satan / Never tempt me with vain things  
>  What you offer me is evil / You drink the poison yourself."


	9. Day 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You manage to get out of the town in one piece, but is that really the end?

The hallway was empty and Sam led you quickly towards the hall where everyone was gathered before. You saw some bodies lying on the floor, Stella among them. For a split second you felt sorry for her, after all she had lost her life for nothing after believing her whole life she would help to save the world one day. Well, no one had seen this coming, especially not Stella.  
“What happened to the rest of them?” You were nervous, they didn’t all die, did they? That would have been awful, most of the townspeople were good at heart, although they didn’t treat you that well so far. They were just too deep into that church/cult stuff.   
“Whoever could get out on their own ran off as soon as the bells rang. The rest…” Sam motioned towards the bodies and you shuddered lightly but kept following him. At least not everyone died in there and that was relief.   
“What happened to the demons?” you asked, voice strained with the effort of running.  
“Gone back to hell. At least I hope they did,” Sam answered you, not even turning his head.   
“And where are we going?” Everything had happened so fast, you had no chance to plan anything. Originally you wanted to leave in the early morning, simply take you stuff and your car, drive away and never look back again.   
“Back to the car for now. Let’s hope they didn’t touch my baby,” Dean growled behind you. You all stormed up some stairs, through the actual church rooms and finally outside through the church door, blinking against the still bright light of the setting sun. You couldn’t have spent more than maybe two or three hours inside of that basement, but it had felt like a lifetime. In front of the church you stumbled into a crowd of people, much more than had been in the basement.  
Your stomach dropped. Whatever this was, it couldn’t be good. And your gut feeling proved to be right – again. You could really do without that to be honest.   
It started with mumbled insults and accusations.   
“Devil’s whore.”   
“Cursed child.”  
“This is all your fault! Bastard child!”   
“What have you done to us?!”  
“She’s the one behind this! Get her!”  
“Witch! You cursed us all!”   
You were halfway through the crowd when the first things were thrown at you. Stones, sticks, a shoe even. Sam and Dean quickly ushered you away from the people, urging you on to run faster before anyone snapped and actually attacked you. It made your heart bleed to see the familiar faces contorted in hatred and anger – and fear. You were used to their hate, but the fear was completely new, it caught you off guard. Did they really think that you were the reason for this whole mess?   
“They took my keys!” Dean suddenly yelled but Sam reached into his pocket and pulled a car key out.  
“Found them while I was searching for the bells,” he pressed out while running. When the car came in sight Dean sped up a bit, took the key from Sam like a baton and came to a bumpy halt next to the door, opened it and unlocked the passenger’s door from the inside. You quickly climbed into the backseat, almost passing out there from nerves and fear and exhaustion.   
Sam slammed the door shut and Dean revved the engine, quickly brought distance between you and the town. You were shaking, tears finally streamed down your face.  
“Sweetheart? You think we can go back to your house? Or will they come with torches and forks and smoke us out?” Dean’s attempt on cheering you up was wasted, but you wiped your face and forced the tears back.   
“Well, we have a head start… You think we can at least go back so you can drop me off?”   
They shared another one of those glances that seemed to contain an hour’s worth of discussion before Sam turned around to face you.  
“We won’t drop you off and just leave you behind. We can go back to your house and get your stuff, but we won’t just – you know, bail on you.”   
You nodded weakly.   
“Didn’t you say there is a motel in the next town? How about we get whatever you need and your car and stay there for the night?”   
You hesitated. You had planned on leaving the next morning, but now you felt rushed. Well, things were rushed, but you also couldn’t forget the way the townspeople had looked at you. They genuinely blamed you for what had happened and that hurt more that you could have ever imagined.  
“Yeah, okay. Thanks.” You nodded again, but kept your eyes cast down. You were still deep in thoughts when you arrived at your home – that wouldn’t be your home much longer now. As soon as Dean killed the engine you got out of the car, the nervous energy battling with your exhaustion.   
“Go and get your stuff,” you called over your shoulder. “I’m gonna pack some supplies.”  
You rushed into the kitchen and threw everything you could use into a box, together with some bottles of grandma’s wine and liquor. You would need them later. Your bags were already packed so there was nothing else to do but waiting for the guys to come back outside. You were already putting everything in the small trunk of your Beetle by the time Sam and Dean left the house.   
“Kid, you think you can drive?” Dean looked at your trembling hands and your tear stained cheeks, and you just shrugged, fought the sobs that wanted to escape your throat again. One arm was still in a sling, and you weren’t sure if you could already move it.   
“I think it’s better we split up. I’m gonna drive your car, Sammy and you are taking the Impala. You can sleep a bit on the backseat.”   
You hesitated. Nothing against Sam, he really saved the day back in that basement, but everything that had happened didn’t exactly help you with trusting Sam. You still remembered how sick you felt when he touched you…  
“There’s no way Sam’s gonna fit in the Beetle, huh?” That prompted a smile from both of them. Yeah, you couldn’t even imagine it either.   
“Okay, it will be a bit cramped, but how about you and I take your car and Sam’s driving Baby?” Dean was looking tired, bruised, dirty, but also like a lifeline to you. He had done shit like this before, he survived – you could, too. So you simply nodded, walked back to the door to lock it – for the last time in your life – and joined Dean in your tiny car, giving him directions to the next motel while Sam followed you with the Impala, certainly grinning the whole time at the sight of Dean hunched over the wheel. 

The motel was at least clean. It was dark by the time you arrived but you could see that much on the first glance. Of course, you had helped your grandma in the bed and breakfast all your life, you knew where to look.   
You wanted to get your own room, sleeping with Sam in the same room wouldn’t help you with your nightmares, especially after this day, but Dean insisted to keep you close. You didn’t argue much. The room had two beds and a couch that you took without even asking. They were paying after all.   
“Sweetheart? You wanna talk about it?” Dean carelessly threw his duffle on a bed and came over to you, but all you could do was shaking your head. Instead of talking you opened your bag, grabbed a bottle of cherry wine and took a huge swig, right out of the bottle.  
“Whoa, easy there! I know it seems like a good idea now, but you will regret that tomorrow.” He gave you a worried look but you simply took another swig, this time your eyes staring directly into his.  
“Fine, be my guest. But I’m not gonna hold your hair when you’re puking, understood?” You nodded and he glanced over at Sam.  
“Sammy, can you take a look at her shoulder?”   
You had almost forgotten. It still hurt when you tried to raise the arm, but moving it a bit was possible. Having Sam coming over and gently checking your shoulder made you uneasy. Not only because of the pain but something in the last few hours had even deepened your distress around him.   
“Seems to be dislocated. Honestly, how can you even move around like this? I’ve seen tougher guys cry over this and pass out…” He carefully poked here and there at your arm and shoulder and you would have shrugged, but that was definitely a bad idea.  
“Must have been the shock. I think once I calm down again the pain will be a real bitch.”   
Sam nodded slowly. “Yeah, probably.” He drew a sharp breath.   
“Okay, we gotta pop it back in. And that’s gonna hurt like hell. So we better find something for you to bite on and maybe you even want to drink something harder than your wine.”   
You needed a moment to understand what he was saying but then you simply reached for your bag, pulled out a belt with your good hand and folded it once.   
“Ready?” You looked at Sam who gave you a determined nod. Biting on the leather of your belt you tried to think about something else than his touch, the way it made your skin crawl. The slightly foul taste in your mouth must have been because of the leather and not because of his touch. While Sam was standing in front of you Dean suddenly was in your back. He put a hand between your shoulder blades and wrapped the other arm around your waist, keeping you in place.   
“Ready? One, two-“ Sam yanked your arm up and forwards and an almost unbearable pain shot through you. The popping sound made you sick but at least you could move your shoulder again, although it was still painful.   
“Sweetheart? Still with us? You’re not passing out on us, are you?” Dean’s voice was so close to your ear but it still sounded muffled. The pain, the wine, the strange events of the day – you were in a haze, but maybe it was better that way. Easier.  
You spit out the belt and blinked a few times.  
“Well, that was unpleasant.” You immediately grabbed the bottle and took another sip.   
“Okay, so if you are fine for now, I’m gonna take a shower.” Dean grabbed his bag and marched off towards the bathroom, missing your tiny chuckle. He was looking worst of the three of you. While Sam was looking good enough to get your room key you were sure that, if you or Dean had tried, you would have been kicked out or even worse, the police would have come.   
“I’m going to get us something to eat,” Sam announced and you acknowledged him with a nod and another swig.   
Once he was gone you were alone in the room, staring off into space, numbing the pain in your body and the one in your heart with grandma’s finest cherry wine.   
“Strawberries, cherries, and an Angel’s kiss in spring…” You giggled, the silly lyrics to your mom’s favorite song popping into your mind, making you hum lowly. “Ohhh oh, summer wine…”   
“You wanna shower, too?”  
Dean’s question made you jump, you hadn’t noticed that he was back.   
“Huh? Oh, yeah, good idea.” You giggled again. “But don’t drink my wine, ya hear me? Imma drink it aaaall on my own…”   
He gave you a searching look. “Are you drunk?”  
“Dunno… maybe~…” You giggled again and he rolled his eyes.   
“So that’s a cold shower for you. C’mon, let’s sober you up a bit.” He grabbed the bottle and put it out of your reach, making you whine a bit. Whine because of the wine… you laughed again at your own silly thoughts. Dean took your good arm and pulled you up but you refused to move so he eventually scooped you up and carried you to the bathroom.  
“I swear, if you puke on me you will regret it,” he muttered before he set you down in front of the shower.  
“Can you do this alone or do you need someone to hold your hand?”  
You laughed again, this was just too funny.  
“Wash me!” Cheerfully you raised your arms a bit and made grabby hands at him, but when he stepped closer and suddenly opened the button and zipper of your shorts you stopped laughing. Dean pushed your shorts down, your breathing hitched in your throat. Oh, wow, yeah… well, that wasn’t exactly what you had in mind, but okay!   
No, not okay. He simply pushed you into the small shower stall and turned on the water, making you squeal at the sudden cold. Drenched from head to toe, still in your bra and cotton panties you shivered and tried to escape but he kept you there until you begged him to let you go. When he was satisfied with your level of sobriety he turned on the warm water. You were standing there like a drowned rat and suddenly the events of the day caught up with you, making you silently cry under the warm water.  
“I think you had enough.” He turned off the water and handed you a towel and you couldn’t agree more. You really had enough. 

Dressed in a tank top and pajama shorts you sat on the couch, no word had passed your lips since Dean had brought your bag to the bathroom and left you alone so you could change. Sam finally came back, pizza and beer in hands. You gratefully took a slice of pizza and started eating, still silent.   
“So, what you gonna do now?” Dean set down his beer and stared at you. “Any plans? Anywhere you can go?”  
You gave him a tired smile. “Yeah, don’t worry. I will be fine.”  
“You sure?” Sam joined in the interrogation and you had to hold back not to snap at him.  
“Yeah, really. I – I never told anyone, but I got accepted at a college a few states over. Full ride. When – as long as grandma was still there I didn’t really thought about it, and when she was gone… I – god, that sounds so pathetic, but I had the feeling the townspeople wouldn’t let me go so I kept it a secret… hid the letter in my secret stash…” That was where you were planning to go anyway. Now that the last part of your family was dead it was the only option you had.   
Another of those silent conversations between them happened and it annoyed the hell out of you.  
“What? You don’t believe me? I’m actually pretty smart!”  
“It’s okay, kid, calm down. We were just wondering… your secret stash? Where was that?”  
The sudden change of topic made you frown. “A loose plank in the living room, under the window. But it’s empty now.”   
A look of realization flashed over Sam’s face and he grinned. “Good stash.”  
You got suspicious. “Yeah, it is. Why are you saying that?”  
They looked slightly guilty and now it was on you to realize something. “You searched my house?! Where you trying to rob me?!”  
“No, god, no!” Dean immediately tried to calm you down. “It’s just – look, when we arrived you were pretty suspicious. The outcast, all alone in that huge house, and the people who had died were all somehow connected to you. We just had to make sure you’re not the one behind all this deaths…”  
You gaped at them. They had suspected you? You?! But you had been the victim all those years!  
“I –I don’t know what to say…”  
“When – when we were shopping the other day? Sam stayed behind and checked your house. Searching for voodoo stuff and book of spells and stuff. Hex bags in case you were cursed. But he couldn’t find anything remotely suspicious, and yeah… we’re sorry.”  
“We really are.” Sam’s puppy eyes were both appalling and endearing.   
“So you found nothing? Good. That means grandma wasn’t a witch after all, huh?” Your own attempt of joking lightened the mood again.   
The guys told you stories about their work and you were amazed and shocked at what was out there without you – and most of the human race – ever noticing. Vampires, witches, werewolves and a lot of other scary things.   
“What about angels?” you asked.  
“What about them?” Dean shrugged.  
“Are they – a thing? I mean, my mom-“ You smiled at the memory of her. “She was convinced that angels are real. Called my birthmark ‘angel’s kiss’.” You rubbed your eyes with the heels of your hands.   
“Kid… no. I never saw an angel and I know of no one who ever did. I know it’s hard to understand, but obviously only the nightmares are real. And the fairy tales, but they are nightmares, too. There’s no kind god and no angels to save us. That’s reality.” Dean took a deep swig from his beer and you dropped your head.  
“Dean,” Sam chided and turned to you. “Look, just because there are no records about them doesn’t mean they don’t exist.”  
“C’mon, Sammy, stop telling her that crap!”  
“I’m not telling her crap, I’m giving her hope! And who knows? Maybe there are angels and a god, I mean, stranger things have already happened!” Sam and Dean glared at each other and you slowly nodded.  
“I think I want to sleep now.” 

You wanted, but you couldn’t. The pain in your shoulder was only a dull ache now, nothing that would keep you awake. But your mind was racing and you switched between hopelessness and determination, constantly arguing with yourself in your head.   
The soft snores from Sam’s bed showed you that at least he was already asleep. Dean was silent but breathed evenly so you figured he was sleeping, too.   
You were afraid. After this day you were sure the nightmares would be only worse. But your body was tired and eventually you dozed off, just to wake up with a start when you saw Sam staring down at you, his eyes black, lips curled into a cruel sneer. Your heart pounded furiously but Sam was still in his bed. It was just a dream. Just a dream…   
You just couldn’t calm down again after that. At some point you stopped tossing and turning, sent a mental ‘fuck you’ to your pride and climbed out of bed – or better from the couch – sneaked over to Dean’s and shook him slightly.  
“Dean? Dean!” you whisper/yelled at him until he snorted once and jerked awake.   
“What?”  
“Dean, I –“ You stood in front of his bed, biting you bottom lip and gathering all your courage. “Can I – can I sleep with you tonight?”   
He sat up and stared at you, the dim light from the neon signs outside enough so you could see his expression.  
“Uhm, kid, that’s… uh, really flattering, but I think it’s not a good idea. I mean, Sam’s just over there and you are – uhm, shaken and maybe still a bit drunk –“   
“Not THAT,” you hissed. “I had another nightmare and don’t want to sleep alone. Can I come into your bed?”   
He wiped his face with a hand, still trying to figure out what was going on.  
“Yeah, uh, sure…” As soon as he raised the covers you slipped under them, snuggling into Dean’s warmth. A relieved sigh came from your lips. You tried to stay away from him as much as possible so you wouldn’t disturb him, both of you lying on you sides, facing away from each other.  
“Thanks,” you muttered and closed your eyes. 

You were warm when you woke up. Warm and cozy. You needed a moment to open your eyes, it was still dim but brighter than last time you checked. A heavy arm was wrapped around your waist and a very warm, firm body pressed against your back. You could feel his heartbeat, his soft breathing against the nape of your neck. At the other side of the room Sam was still snoring. It was this exact moment that broke your heart, but you tried your hardest not to let them know. The muffled sobs and hastily wiped tears wouldn’t help you after all and in the morning they would leave and you would move across the country and hopefully start a new life. For now you snuggled closer to Dean and soaked in the feeling of safety and warmth, something that you already knew would be rare in the future.   
The next time you opened your eyes it was already bright. Sam’s bed was empty but he was nowhere to be seen. You raised your head to scan the room only to feel Dean’s hold on you tighten. He pulled you even closer and you froze. Okay, that was – uhm, there was something…  
“Dean.” You needed to clear your throat after a very feeble attempt of saying his name.  
“Dean!”   
“What’s wrong, sweetheart? Gimme five more minutes…” His sleepy voice was hoarse, he sounded completely unfazed. You couldn’t just tell him what was bothering you, you were too flustered and this whole situation was awkward. You tried to wiggle out of his arms but only to end up pressed even closer. Shit.  
“Sweetheart, you better stop that,” he drawled, still half asleep. Okay, you needed to actually say.   
“Dean, would you please let me go? Your morning wood is freaking me out!”   
He instantly let go of you and you rolled out of the bed, frantically smoothing down your sleepwear.   
“Sorry, that’s just – that’s not about you, just some… uhm…” He sat up and tried to explain but you glared at him.  
“Not about me, huh? Well, thanks,” you huffed and crossed your arms in front of you.  
“That’s not it. Just you are – damn, you are too young, okay? I wouldn’t do anything to a kid like you, so relax. I think I need a shower.” He grumbled on while he padded into the bathroom and you mentally slapped yourself for acting like a blushing virgin. But it was okay, you hadn’t expected anything else.   
Soon Sam came back with breakfast and after another examination of your shoulder –“Wow, you are really healing fast.” – you all got ready to leave the motel.

“You are really okay?” Sam asked for the umpteenth time, making your smile. It was still strange to see this gentle and kind giant while at the same time the picture of his dark self never faded from your mind.   
“I am. I can drive and I will arrive at the college in a few days. I got some money and some supplies. I’m a big girl, don’t worry.” He flashed you a small smile and you answered in kind.   
“Hey kid, if you ever – will, need something, you can call this number. He’s a friend, one of the few people I actually trust. Tell him Dean sends you and he will do everything he can, okay?” Dean handed you a card. Bobby Singer. You nodded.   
“Why can’t I – why can’t I just call you?” Don’t go there, don’t go there! Your instincts were screaming at you but maybe you needed a clear, open rejection. That would help you to get over this silly crush.   
He sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. “I – uhm, I won’t be around much longer. Two months.”  
You stared at him. At Sam. Back at Dean. “Oh.” Was he ill? Something terminal? Well, that would explain his somehow reckless behavior and how relaxed he could face Mallory. He would die.   
You hesitated. “Well, in that case: the secret ingredient for my chili is chocolate. Dark chocolate. 70 percent, the more, the better. Only two or three little pieces.” You smiled bravely at him even though your heart was breaking. His smile was bright and his eyes were sparkling.  
“I’ll remember that.”   
You wanted to hug him. You wanted to kiss him. You wanted to beg him not to leave you behind but you knew that would be pathetic and you just couldn’t do it. Instead you offered him a handshake. Professional, business like.   
Dean glanced over to Sam who turned around and pretended to inspect the door of the Impala. When you looked back to Dean he pulled you close and kissed you, just a light brush of his lips against yours. You instantly wrapped your arms around his neck and returned the kiss properly.   
“Be safe,” he whispered and you nodded, the lump in your throat too big to talk. Like the damned Mount Everest.   
You didn’t try to hold him back when he pulled away from you and simply watched him and Sam getting into the car. You waved briefly. Your life had been turned upside down in only a week and the only good thing about it was just driving away. You would get over it. You would get over him. You would get over some state borders and into a new life.   
“Summer wine” was playing in the radio when you started the Beetle. You smiled and started your journey.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I plan on writing a sequel, but that will take some time. Thank you all for your kind words and your support, it means a lot to me. This story was in my head for so long and I still haven't told all of it yet. I know there are a lot of unanswered questions, but that's part of fun, isn't it?  
> Thanks!


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